


nothing worsens, nothing grows

by soldouthaz



Series: nothing worsens, nothing grows 'verse [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Addiction, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Completed, Dual POV, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson are the Same Age, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Louis, Kink Discovery, Kneeling, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Suicide, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, OT4, OT5, Pining, Secret Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Smut, Subspace, Top Harry, Uni AU, Virgin Louis, roadtrip au, side Ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-29 06:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 102,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldouthaz/pseuds/soldouthaz
Summary: and he sits there quietly with harry’s headphones in his ears while his eyes begin to close, totally unaware that he’s listening to the soundtrack of harry falling in love with him.or, another roadtrip au featuring harry as the misunderstood hipster, louis as the bitter psych major, liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Series: nothing worsens, nothing grows 'verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049879
Comments: 129
Kudos: 682





	1. 0.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> london --> san francisco

_ Louis _

The spring semester before graduation was long and treacherous and Louis wants nothing more than to fall into his bed and never come out of it again. 

Unfortunately though, that isn’t an option. In a few short weeks, he’d agreed to take part in a cross-country road trip with three of his friends - well, two friends and an acquaintance. And with Liam’s obsessive planning, he’s also stuck here at one of their weekly meet-ups to talk about all of the small, grueling details. Louis is tired, but he knows better than to upset the trip they’d planned months in advance specifically so that he could come with them. He isn’t  _ heartless _ . Or at least he doesn’t feel like it today. 

Chewing absentmindedly on his straw, he glances around at Niall sitting beside him and Liam across the booth. They’d only been friends for about three years now, thrown together under different circumstances in uni, but it felt like they’d known each other their whole lives. Thinking about that makes it easier to tolerate their incessant bickering. 

“I just don't understand why she would do this to me.” Niall tugs at his newly-brown roots in frustration while Liam smirks at him from across the table. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t just do the exact same thing to Amanda.” Liam’s eyebrows raise, tilting his head toward Niall. 

“But that was  _ different _ ,” Niall runs his hands down his face, “I tried to let her down easy, mate, I tried. But she wouldn't leave me alone! Went to my work and my house and even tried to catch me outside of classes. I was honest with her!” 

Liam rambles on about respect and chivalry but Louis struggles to keep up with their debate. He’s distracted, as he often is when their conversations aren’t very intellectually stimulating. Louis had other friends in his beginning years at King’s college, but these were the only ones that managed to stick around after a few months. As much as he hated to be sentimental, he was very grateful for their loyalty and willingness to drag him out of his flat every week for a large helping of greasy, overpriced fast food and milkshakes. 

He kicks his foot out impatiently underneath the table, ready for their last guest to arrive so they can make arrangements for their trip and then go their separate ways. It’s his last day of uni, and Louis can hear his bed calling out to him all the way from his flat. He’s beginning to get restless and they’d only been seated for - he checks his phone - fifteen minutes. 

Straightening up, Louis sets his elbows on the table, resting his face in his hands and making a futile attempt to contribute to the discussion. They’re still talking about girls, though, and Louis can’t even  _ pretend _ to know anything about that. 

When there’s a lull in his and Niall’s bickering, Liam moves his gaze to Louis. 

“You okay, Lou?” Liam squints at him over the rim of his drink. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods, “I’m just tired. Ready to go home and get in bed if m’honest.” 

He nods sympathetically and Niall pats him on the back, nodding like he understands. He probably doesn’t, because Niall’s always a ball of energy, but Louis appreciates the sentiment. 

“Well, as soon as Har- Haz! Hey, over here!” Niall’s loud, irish lilt rings out across the cafe and Louis sinks further down into his seat to avoid any harsh looks for interrupting the peace in the small cafe. 

So there he is -  _ Harry Styles _ . Hair tousled just the right amount, skin tight black jeans, and a cardigan over the top of a patterned tee that would look absolutely pretentious on anyone else. Louis swears he’s seen as much in the protagonist of one of the movies his younger sisters are obsessed with. 

Much to his dismay, Harry’d been a part of their little group since the beginning, too. They’d never really clicked, mainly because a girl Louis had been close friends with in his first year at Uni had her heart shattered by him so much so that she moved back home to finish studying elsewhere. His attempts at consoling her had all been unsuccessful and he hated to see her bubbly and fun personality go down the drain because of some immature  _ boy _ . According to her he had slept with her at a party and they’d gone on a few dates and then he’d cheated on her after he’d gotten bored.  _ Typical guy _ , Louis remembers thinking. 

It wasn’t as if Louis didn’t have other reasons to dislike him, though, Harry genuinely struck a chord in Louis that just didn’t sit well with him. To be fair, Harry’d always been kind to him specifically, but the way he treated anyone who seemed even remotely interested in him - girls  _ or _ boys - made Louis sick to his stomach. To him, Harry seemed way too overconfident and had much too big an ego. He’s not afraid to show it, either. 

Like right now, as he saunters his way across the tile floor, heeled boots clicking against the linoleum, soaking in all of the attention he’s getting on the way over to their corner booth. Louis has to resist the urge to roll his eyes when he winks cheekily at the girls in the seats behind theirs, hearing them giggle over the background noise of the cafe. 

Crossing his arms and kissing his teeth in silent protest, he watches as Harry plops down into the booth beside Liam, giving him a customary handshake and nodding to Louis and Niall. 

“So,” he looks around at the group, “the trip. What’s the plan?” 

Louis scoffs at the fact that Harry is the one who’s late and yet he’s the one so eager to get on with things. Beside him, Niall pulls a sideways glance as if telling him to play it nice. 

Taking a deep breath, Liam addresses them, “We’re going to try and leave early on September first so we can get a head start on the crowds and tourists. We have the rental for exactly one month and we  _ can’t _ go over because that would be way too expensive,” he pauses to glance across the table, “Niall has said he wants to be in charge of food, so. That’s that. We already have the spots planned out, I can send you the link to the document I made with all of the information. We’ll be staying at each location for three to five days in a hotel.” 

“Of course you have a document.” Niall rolls his eyes fondly and flashes him a grin. 

Subtly taking a long swig of Niall’s drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Harry turns his gaze back to Liam with a serious expression. 

“You’re driving right?” 

“Of course, I would never let Niall drive.” Liam ducks to avoid the bagel thrown at his head and Harry snickers. 

“Yeah, and Lou is in charge of counseling us if things get too dramatic.” Niall elbows him and raises his eyebrows, proud of his uni-related joke. It was awful, but Louis cracks a smile anyway. 

Since Louis’ a psych major he gets a lot of those jokes from the group, but he’s used to it by now and he actually does have to deescalate things every once in a while when the testosterone levels get too high. Because Niall and Harry both study music arts, they’re forced to be friends as well, but at least  _ they _ get along, Louis figures. Liam’s a bit of an odd man out since he’s attended fire school, but he fits into their group with an ease that Louis’ sure no one else could probably pull off. 

“So, what’s my job?” Harry clears his throat. 

It’s obvious to Louis that he can’t go more than a few seconds without having all of the attention. Niall elbows him again with a glare. 

Chewing on a fry, Liam studies Harry closely for a second before his eyes light up, “You get to take some killer shots of us at each spot with your camera.” 

“Sweet!”

Despite his interest in music, Harry prides himself on being the most gifted photographer out of all of them. The most gifted artist in general, really. He’s got to be the best at everything he does or else he pouts for the rest of the day. 

When Louis looks up from his folded hands on the table, Harry’s nodding enthusiastically and bouncing in his seat next to Liam. That’s fine, Harry can have his  _ thing _ as long as he stays far away from all of  _ Louis’ _ things. 

“I guess that’s it then,” Liam shrugs, “just make sure to pack everything you need for a month. Other than that we’re trying to make it pretty lowkey and fun.” 

“Oh,” Niall grins, “Is that why you made a document for our every move?” 

Liam throws him an unimpressed look, tossing the bagel back at Niall who catches it easily, taking a large bite and proudly broadcasting the inside of his mouth to the group. 

The whole road trip thing had been Liam and Niall’s idea, but since they’re friends, Louis got dragged into it and, consequently, so did Harry. At least he has a few more days of freedom before he’s  _ really _ trapped. 

“That sounds great,” Harry says, “And we leave three weeks from tomorrow, yeah?” 

As Liam and Niall nod, Louis begins getting his things together to go home, contemplating what exactly would be the best way to avoid Harry when they’re to be about four feet apart from each other at all times for thirty days. 

——

In the days leading up to the trip, Louis spends the majority of his time sleeping in, avoiding the general public, and attempting to talk on the phone with his siblings. Mostly just avoiding the thought of the thing altogether until he absolutely has to. It isn’t necessarily that he doesn’t want to go, he just sort of wishes his fun, after-graduation trip could be on his own terms. 

Louis walks across the air-conditioned cold floor of his laundry room in his slippers and pajamas toward the lift, carrying his basket of freshly dried laundry on his hip. 

The last official trip he’d been on was a little over seven years ago, and that’d been with his mother. When she passed away Louis took it the hardest of all of his siblings, although each of them grieved, are still somewhat grieving, in their own ways. He’d made some poor decisions around that time that had caused him trouble later but for the most part he prides himself on handling it pretty okay and for still sticking around to support his younger siblings. Louis still has his doubts about what that means for the future, but for right now it means going to college and working a job, sometimes more than one, so he can send money home. Unfortunately, this trip he’s about to go on doesn’t have anything to contribute to those goals. 

Plus, there’s always the fact that Harry’s going to be there, and Louis’ not sure he’ll be able to hold his tongue for a whole month. It’s easier when he doesn’t have to see him at all and being in close quarters could be very, very bad for both Louis’ mental health and Harry’s ego. 

Then he thinks of how excited Liam and Niall are, so Louis vows to make a serious effort once again and pushes the thought of texting Niall that he’s deathly ill and won’t be able to make it out of his head. Niall’s birthday will fall during the time they’re on vacation, too, so there isn’t really any other option. 

Stepping out onto his floor from the lift, Louis readjusts the basket and unlocks the door before stepping inside and shutting the chill out quickly behind him. He’s always hated living alone. He figures it’s because, growing up, he had at least a few children hanging onto him at all times. 

As much as he dislikes being by himself, Louis rarely has company over and is too afraid of being judged for his lackluster abode and sporadic cleaning habits to welcome social interaction with open arms. Sometimes Niall manages to push his way in, but that’s also uncommon. Nevertheless, it’s his home and he’s proud of himself for keeping it running over the last four years. It won’t be his much longer, though. 

In a few weeks, he’s supposed to move back home for a bit to get another job and save up some more money, but it’s probably the last thing he wants to think about right now. He sets the basket down next to his bedroom to put away later on and heads for the kitchen. 

Niall called him several times last night but Louis was asleep and it takes a lot more than a buzzing phone to wake him when he’s tired. Louis knows he’ll come knocking soon if he doesn’t call him back but he just can’t bring himself to talk to Niall, or to anyone else, at the moment. 

Leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed while he waits for his tea, Louis contemplates what he’s going to do to keep himself busy on the long drive. The only reason he thinks this was even a good idea to begin with is the fact that it’ll get him out of his flat. 

Every night after work and school the past months Louis finds himself sat up on his couch watching the telly or old movies until he inevitably falls asleep, which is how he spends the other half of his time. Partying and drinking like he had his first year of uni seems like an awful idea and his only other real option is to call Niall or Liam to meet up somewhere. But he can’t do  _ that _ because he doesn’t want to seem too needy and he doesn’t want them to see him like this. 

The times when he hadn’t showered in days or when he hadn’t gotten around to cleaning the flat in weeks. He can picture vividly Liam reprimanding him for being so irresponsible, and he knows hearing those things coming from people he cares about would only make things much worse. And he wouldn’t even dream of letting Harry in his flat, Louis knows better and he’s sure that he would have the most to say about the mess and about Louis in general - not that Louis’ concerned about what Harry thinks of him, anyway. 

Louis’ a bit of an overthinker. 

Taking his mug over to the couch, he pulls out his phone and scrolls through his missed messages, responding to his sisters and ignoring Liam and Niall’s. Didn’t they understand that they would be seeing enough of each other in just a few days? Louis sighs and puts his phone back down, pulling absentmindedly at a string hanging off of his sweater and taking sips of his tea. 

He hasn’t packed anything yet, despite the fact that he’s moving and that they’re leaving in less than a week for their first stop on the trip. Liam sent him the link to their destinations but he has yet to open it and figures he may be better off, or at least more emotionally invested, if he’s just surprised. Going to the states is something Louis’d wanted to do for a very long time. He’d been excited to experience them when he was younger but, just like everything else, his excitement had dulled quite a bit when he lost the chance to see them alongside his mother. 

Grabbing the remote and turning on the tv to drown out the thoughts, Louis presses play on his rerun of  _ Great British Bake Off _ that he’d been watching that morning and settles in for what he hopes will be a nice, relaxing afternoon. 

——

Louis wakes up four hours later, tea loosely clutched in his hand and balancing precariously on the edge of the sofa, to loud, persistent banging on his door. He slowly cracks open an eye and squints, then checks his phone to see if he missed any texts about someone coming over. Wiping the drool from his face, he runs a hand through his hair but it fails to make him feel any less groggy. 

Sure enough, Niall’s left him eight messages and two voicemails telling him he’d be there soon. Louis sets his mug on the table and heaves himself off of his sofa before making his way over to open his door. 

“‘lo?” Louis coughs, “Hello?” 

Niall pushes past him into the living room. 

“‘Sup, Lou. Thought you could use a little pick me up before the trip, since you haven’t been answering any of my calls. Thought maybe somethin’ was wrong?”

Louis can sense the passive-aggressive tone in his voice at being ignored, but he knows Niall’s just looking out for him like he always does. 

“I’m fine, Ni. Just tired still,” he yawns and waves a hand vaguely, “You know, work and stuff.” 

It’s an awful and overused excuse, but Niall seems to brush it off fairly quickly as he turns his attention to arranging everything he’d brought with him on Louis’ coffee table. Alcohol, crisps, and chocolate take up almost the whole surface. He looks up at Niall expectantly, eyebrows raised. 

“Is this supposed to ‘ _ pick me up _ ’?” Louis brings his fingers up to quote Niall’s earlier statement. 

“Uh - yeah. What’s better than havin’ a pint, some snacks, and watching a game of footie?” 

It’s times like these that Louis has a difficult time biting his tongue. He always wants to be a supportive friend, of course, but had Niall ever even asked  _ him _ if  _ he _ liked any of those things?  _ No _ . Louis just goes along with them because it makes Niall happy. 

He snatches a bag of crisps from the table as Niall snatches the remote from his chair and flips through the channels in search of a game. He’d already made himself at home with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a pint in one hand and the remote in the other. 

Niall’s the only one who’s actually allowed into Louis’ mess, but even his closest friend being here makes him a bit uncomfortable. There’s definitely something wrong with that, but Louis’ too tired to think about what that means right now. 

He sinks back down into the spot on the sofa where the shape of his body is still imprinted and figures he should speak up more in the future. 

Once Niall settles on a channel he deems good enough, he tosses the remote back onto the sofa and glances at Louis from the corner of his eye. 

“You sure you’re okay, mate?” He asks around a mouthful of candy. 

“Yeah, it’s like I told you. I’ve just been resting from working so hard.” He tries to smile at him to prove his point, but Louis feels like he probably just looks even more miserable that way. 

Niall seems unconvinced. 

“Okay,” he takes a deep breath, “well, you know you can always talk to me if you need to. I don’t judge.” 

Louis smiles and nods and pretends like nothing is wrong like he always does, like he’s good at, and tries to convince Niall with his eyes to change the subject. 

Niall must sense it, because the minute Louis turns back to look at the game he starts talking all about Liam and his new internship that he’s starting when they get back. Louis asks questions and Niall answers and then they both settle down into a lull and become focused on the game, which Louis is grateful to have as a distraction during the silence. As much as he doesn’t like company, Louis thinks just the slow in-and-out of Niall’s breathing is slightly calming if only because it reminds him he isn’t alone. 

Growing up as the only guy in a household full of mainly girls had left him disadvantaged when he entered public school, but it was even worse in uni. He was happy that Liam and Niall hung out with him at all. He’d only been friends with girls while he was growing up, which had garnered him some pretty severe bullying and name-calling when he was younger. He’s past all of that now, for the most part. 

Finding out that he was actually gay later on had been the icing on the proverbial cake for both himself and the people that made fun of him, but Louis likes to think he’s stronger because of everything he’d gone through in his younger years. 

His point is he was ecstatic, albeit a bit hesitant, to finally have some solid  _ guy _ friends. People of his own gender that weren’t scared to be around him or be his friend despite the fact that he was gay. 

He’d met Liam first, when he was eating lunch alone his second year of uni after he’d allegedly gone off the deep end. Louis had been in a bad place then, when all of his so-called friends had left him after he’d come out and he spent his days alone and depressed about his mother and his loneliness but too stubborn to do anything about it. 

They’d started a tentative friendship that day. He learned later that Liam had some experience with bullies, too, because of his above average performance in high school. It was something that Louis had scoffed at when he told him but quickly apologized for when Liam began to pack up his things. 

Niall came into his life shortly after that, when they were partnered together for a biology course they’d taken. Neither of them had any idea what they were doing for the entirety of the year. They made consistently awful marks and they slacked off and joked around during lectures, but somehow they managed to pass at the end, most likely because the professor was so happy to see them go. Whereas with Liam it started slowly and grew, it was an instant click with Niall, and Louis found it hard to believe at the time that he actually had  _ one _ friend, let alone two. 

There was a good four months or so before Liam and Niall met one another, and Louis thinks back on that time as the golden days. That is to say, there was no Harry. 

It spiraled immediately after they were first introduced. It was Christmastime, right before Louis’ birthday, and they were both going to stay on campus and wanted to celebrate with him. They met up at a pub not too far from Louis’ flat, and Liam recognized Niall right off from one of his classes. Over drinks and burgers, the pair had discussed their similarities. 

“Yeah, I can’t believe she actually came in completely sloshed. She had it coming from day one.” Liam laughed. 

“Hundred percent, mate! So glad she’s gone,” Niall had paused to take a sip of his drink, “hey, aren’t you the one who’s always hanging ‘round with that Harry kid?” 

Louis had sombered at that, unaware of the fact that  _ his _ Liam may have been friends with the boy that had broken his friends heart. 

“Uhm, yeah. Yeah, we’re mates.” Liam flashed them both a toothless smile, as if he felt the atmosphere shift at Harry’s name, as if he was used to it by now. 

Neither of them had known about his distaste for Harry yet but while they had quickly moved on to other topics, Louis was stuck on the fact that he now had some connection to  _ the _ Harry Styles. It planted a foreign feeling deep in his chest that still hasn’t completely worn off. 

The next time they all went out, Liam asked if it was cool to bring Harry along, Niall had agreed, and that had been that. Two and a half years later, they still had no idea and Louis wasn’t planning on telling them. If he did, he was sure to open up a very awkward door, one that may leave him friendless all over again. Louis was not willing to risk his only source of happiness these days over some discomfort that could be easily avoided if he tried hard enough. 

“Yes! Fuckin’ had ‘em from the very beginning. Knew it,” Niall cheers loudly, startling Louis from zoning out at the telly, “did you see that?” 

Stretching over the sofa and letting out a loud yawn, Louis lies. 

“Yeah, I knew he’d score the whole time.” 

Niall grins behind his drink, “So, have ya started packing yet? You know we leave in a week.” 

“Yes, Niall, I know we leave in  _ less than _ a week. I’ll have everything ready.”

With an unsure twist of his lips, Niall tilts his head at him.

“Promise,” Louis adds. 

“Alright.”

He turns back to the television when Louis goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and set his forgotten cup of tea in the sink. When he returns, Niall’s still looking at him expectantly, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to bring it up, his mouth opening and closing several times. Louis crosses his arms defensively. 

“What is it, Ni?”

Cringing, Niall twitches under his gaze and purses his lips. 

“I just - you’ll be okay going on this trip with everyone, right?” 

Louis’ brows furrow, “Yeah?” 

“No, I mean like with - with Harry.” 

So he  _ had _ noticed something was amiss, then. Louis thought he hadn’t been obvious about it. He toes at the carpet under his feet. 

“I’ll be fine, yeah. Why do you ask?” 

“I don’t know, ya just seem sort of,” he paused, “ _ off _ around him. Like he makes you uncomfortable or something.”

Louis had two choices here - he could pretend like Niall is crazy and has no idea what he’s talking about, or he can be honest with him and rip off the bandaid like the Louis inside of his head would do. 

“I don’t really have any  _ personal _ issue with him, he just -” Louis nudges his foot against the edge of the sofa, “he sort of fooled around with one of my old friends and then never called her again. She fancied him a lot and he knew that, so.” 

Louis hates how every time he speaks his mind it sounds like a question. He’d tried to play off how angry Harry actually made him for Niall’s benefit. In front of him, Niall just looks very confused. 

Before he can speak, Louis adds, “But don’t tell Li or Harry, please. I don’t want to upset anyone or anything.”

“No, no I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. Swear. I just-” Niall shakes his head toward the floor, “that doesn’t sound anything like ‘im.” 

Louis resists the urge to scoff embarrassingly loud by tugging at the hem of his sweater again and jerkily throwing up a shoulder in a tight shrug. 

Both the game and the conversation end shortly after that, and Niall tells Louis he can keep the leftovers of what he’d brought over. 

“Just don’t eat everything tonight, yeah?” 

Louis gives him a side hug in response as he makes his way to the door. 

“I won’t,” Louis smiles, “hey, Ni? You promise not to tell either of them what I told you right?” 

Niall pats him on the shoulder, “Of course I do. I’ve never told any of your secrets, have I?” He chuckles. 

“No. I just don’t want them to be angry with me before we’re all trapped in a car together for a month.” 

“Trapped,” he scoffs, “You’re somethin’ else, Tommo.” 

Ruffling his hair in parting, Niall turns around to face him again in the last seconds before the lift doors close and yells, “Don’t forget to pack! This is supposed to be  _ fun _ ! ” 

Louis’ mouth quirks up at his friend and he goes back inside, locking the door and walking over to the table to clean up the mess he left behind. Maybe Niall’s right, if he gets up and gets packing he might feel better, more productive. For now though, he’s going to finish his television marathon and stuff his face with Niall’s leftovers and act like he doesn’t have any plans for the next few years. 

——

A typical lazy day in Louis’ life consists of waking up late, snacking around on whatever’s in his kitchen, taking a nap, watching television, and then going back to bed and repeating the whole redundant cycle over again. He’d worked his last day today at the cafe, and it felt wonderfully freeing to take off his apron for the very last time. He only worked on the weekends, but it was long hours and dealing with pushy and impatient customers was something he was more than happy to be rid of. 

The day before their flight, Louis stands in the middle of his room and stares down each piece of clothing in his closet with a vengeance. He has to make sure that he looks put together over the next month, like he has any idea what he’s doing with his life. Niall often criticised him for wearing his all-time favorite sweatshirts and hoodies, but Louis was usually cold and they were soft and comfortable - sue him. 

Over the last few days he’d also started slowly packing up his things. Since he’s moving back home right after they get back, the head start seemed like a good idea. Looking for jobs that were close to home and paid well was proving to be harder than he’d thought, but Louis persists nonetheless. 

He slides his clothes down the rack and thumbs between each of them, then moves them back to their spot when he only comes up with more dark colored shirts. Louis bites his lip. Does he even  _ want _ to make an effort? He knows that Liam and Niall will be expecting him to show up in black, oversized clothes but for some reason Louis feels like he needs to switch it up a bit. He’s probably just overthinking the whole thing like normal. 

The other, more annoying part of Louis’ brain keeps reminding him that he’s not having an issue with Liam or Niall at all, it’s Harry. Which,  _ okay _ , Louis thinks, that’s partially true. But it’s only because he wants to appear more sophisticated than Harry. There’s no way Louis’ going to let his enemy see him as anything less than prepared for any and every situation they may find themselves in. He isn’t sure if Harry’s heard anything about him from previous years, but those rumours would surely be put to rest when he realizes just how much better Louis is doing than himself. 

He smirks as he holds up a few different shirts in front of his mirror. Though there were only a few, Louis liked to save his nicer shirts for times like this. They’re still mostly black, but he isn’t going to stray  _ too _ far from his true self. 

He would cover up all of his discomfort with the soft, knitted tops and hope that no one questions him about the dark bags under his eyes and the loss of his smile lines. 

——

The trip is already proving to be worse than Louis thought it would be. They’d gotten to the airport late and waited anxiously in the unbearably slow line for two hours before getting to their gate, only to find out the flight had been delayed another three hours anyway. Niall had complained about the quality of the airport food the entire time, and Liam was leaned back into his posh-looking neck pillow he’d bought while they were waiting in line, looking down at his phone and incredibly nervous about his schedule being thrown off. Harry, however, is sitting across from Louis with his headphones in, typing away on his laptop. 

Louis’ got no idea what he’s working on, nor does he care. He’s too busy reading one of many psychology books that he’d stuffed in his bag last minute, flipping mindlessly through the pages filled with information he already knows. At least they’re a good distraction, he thinks, and it makes him appear busy so that people won’t try and make conversation. 

Louis loves studying the brain. He feels like it’s a free pass into everyone’s minds and the ticket to understanding why people did what they did. It makes him feel not as helpless as he knows he actually is. 

While he enjoys it, he also isn’t passionate about it. He’s got every medical and psychological term memorized from the top of the brain to the bottom of the spinal cord, but the idea of the subject doesn’t excite him. It’s cool and he appreciates what he’s learned but it isn’t something he can see himself doing, although he knows he doesn’t have much of a choice. 

If Louis had his way, he’d be a teacher. He’d have a classroom full of teenagers - the ones nobody else wants to teach. And maybe in them he’d find the sort of family he wished he had at home. It’s a nice dream, but it isn’t realistic so Louis tries to push it down and focus harder on his studies that are guaranteed to make him some money to send back home. 

Like he thought he would, he’d already ditched the shirts he’d set out the night before and opted for another simple black tee, one of his favorite soft ones with a faded band logo on the front. Luckily, Niall hadn’t made any comments about his fashion choices in their haste to get to the airport on time but Louis braces himself for when he stops shoving food into his face long enough to notice. 

By the time the plane is ready to be boarded, they’re all close to dozing off again. The flight itself is a blur of crowded aisles, oversized luggage, and not enough leg room, but they make it work somehow. 

Liam’s still a mess when they step off the tarmac, panicking because their rental car was due to be picked up an hour prior, and he has no idea what predicament that would mean they’re in for in the states. Harry’d had to calm him down several times while they went to get their luggage and loaded themselves into the shuttle to the rental car dealer. Louis and Niall just watch with amused grins. 

“Hi, hello! I have a car that I’m supposed to be picking up under the name Payne? I’m so sorry that we’re late, our flight got delayed and-” Niall’s hand on Liam’s arm puts a stop to his nervous rambling. 

“Yes sir, it’s no problem. I have the car for you, I just need to see your ID.” The poor woman behind the counter seems surprised at Liam’s outburst, and she eyes the group warily as Harry tries to make stilted conversation. 

“Yeah, we haven’t ever been here before. We’re looking to see some of the tourist-y spots and landmarks around the states. Gonna be a bit of a road trip.” He smiles at her. 

“Found it!” Liam exclaims, startling the woman once again and putting Harry’s work to shame. Louis smirks when she doesn’t acknowledge him. 

“Perfect. Let me go scan this and I’ll show you to your car.”

——

The  _ car _ ends up being much larger than they thought and is actually more of a glorified van. It takes Liam a bit to adjust to driving on the opposite side, but he picks it all up fairly quickly. 

“Okay, Niall,” Liam shouts from the front, “you’re in charge of food, so are we eating here or waiting a bit?” 

Niall appears to be too distracted by his phone to realize that he’s being spoken to, but Harry gladly offers his own opinion. 

“Don’t you think maybe we should get a bit closer to where we’re staying for the night before we stop? That way we can just go and get settled in. I think we’re about two hours away.” 

Liam’s groan of protest is loud and annoyed, but he keeps driving toward their destination nonetheless. In the very back Louis makes himself comfortable, sprawled out with pillows and blankets pushed up all around him as a makeshift nest. He watches dizzily as the buildings pass him by outside the window. 

“We’re going to San Francisco, right?” he asks. 

“Yep! Our first stop is the Golden Gate bridge.” Harry chirps. 

He’d had answered him eagerly, turning around in his seat next to Niall to let him know their whereabouts. When Louis only stares at him in response, he runs a hand through his hair and promptly turns back around toward the front. 

All in all, it hadn’t been that bad so far, despite their rocky start this morning. It’s only been a few hours but Louis’ gotten to take a nap once already and no one had tried to fight him on taking the entire back seat for himself, which he considers a small victory. He can save his brattiness for another time during the trip if they continue letting him do whatever he wants. 

Niall hasn’t spoken to him anymore about his distaste for Harry, and had only shared a single sideways glance with him when they first loaded into the van. Louis’ grateful, mainly because he’s serious about not ruining their trip with his awkwardness like he was sure he was going to, but also he’s simply too tired to keep up the act. He’s determined to keep things as simple as possible over the course of the next month. Unless, of course, he’s provoked by his younger traveling partner, in which case he would have no choice but to bite back. And who could blame him, really? He would be doing everyone a favor. 

Hating Harry had been a hobby of his for several years now and, admittedly, it took a lot out of him. It actually made Louis physically tired. He’d have to decide if he had it in him to keep it going for much longer. Not that Harry was able to change Louis’ mind about him at all, but maybe he could try ignoring him altogether instead of being rude. It sounded much less time consuming. 

Louis lays his head back down onto his pillow and looks up pictures of their destination on his phone so he’ll be prepared for what they were going to see. Living off of uni salaries meant there was no extra money lying around for fancy tours or anything, so they had to educate themselves on the landmarks before their arrival if they actually wanted to learn anything from the trip. They only had money for eating and maybe some small souvenirs. Pocket change, really. Liam told them ahead of time they were responsible for themselves for things like that. Louis didn’t plan on spending much of his anyway, since most of it went into an account back home. 

The few hours to the bridge pass by relatively quickly as Liam and Niall chat back and forth and Harry hums lowly to his playlist that’s on in the background. Louis’ book had been long forgotten in his research as he dozed in and out of consciousness, and now he’s just hungry. 

“Are we there yet?” He whines, turning onto his side. 

Liam chuckles and glances at him in the rearview mirror. 

“Not just yet. We’re going to stop and get something to eat and then we should only be like, fifteen minutes away.” 

“I think we should just stop anywhere that has some chicken,” Niall pauses thoughtfully, “and maybe some desserts.” 

Louis rolls his eyes at him and turns back to his phone. Liam huffs. 

“Whatever, mate. Just map me to the closest place you can find, I’m starving.” 

Harry still seems pleasantly distracted by his phone, and Louis figures he’s busy chatting with whoever was unlucky enough to be his latest conquest. In the car, Harry avoided using his headphones like he had at the airport and on the plane, but that was only because Liam let him play his music on the drive over. It was less than enjoyable, Louis’d concluded. 

Pulling into a crowded parking garage and navigating his way into a spot, Liam shouts at everyone to use the restroom if they need to and to order light because they’re all having dinner somewhere nice later on if all goes according to plan. 

Three chicken sandwiches, two orders of fries, a coke and a chocolate chip cookie later, Niall finally decides he’s full enough to head back to the car and drive over to the bridge. 

“I still can’t believe you ate three  _ whole _ sandwiches. I told you to go easy so that we could have a nice meal together tonight and now you won’t even be hungry.” Liam complains. 

“Calm down, Payno. Have ya met me? I’ll be good to go again in just a couple hours, don’t you worry.” Niall pats him on his cheek and skips ahead. 

Rigidly and with an awkward forward swing of his legs, Harry walks beside Louis with his hands in his pockets, as if he’s afraid that his presence alone is enough to tip him over the edge. To be fair, Louis figures, it just might be. 

“So,” Harry begins, “you enjoying the trip so far?”

Louis frowns at the awkward attempt at conversing, and tries to give him the most blunt answer he can. This is the sort of thing he doesn’t want to encourage. 

“Yeah.” 

Harry’s face dimples up at Louis’ response, and he immediately opens his mouth to speak again. Before he can, they’re back at the car and Niall makes his way over to manhandle Louis into his backseat spot before climbing in behind him, like he could sense that Louis needed an out. Everyone else files in behind them as they get comfortable once again. 

“Okay,” Liam began, “we only have a few more minutes until we should be getting there. We’re going to park, get on the bikes, and ride to see it. I don’t want to stay more than about thirty minutes though, out of courtesy.” 

The boys all nod in response to Liam’s plan as he starts the car up once again. 

“I think I’m most excited to see how people, like, interact here. Ya know?” Niall glances out the window, seemingly deep in thought as Harry snorts at him from across the arm rest.  _ They aren’t aliens _ , Louis thinks. 

“Yeah, Ni. I know what you mean.” Harry throws him a lopsided grin and turns back to look out at his own view. Huffing, Louis fidgets with his hands and struggles to settle back into his pillows. 

He keeps himself occupied by thinking about his family. What would they be doing right now if they were here with him? Surely they would all be bickering like they usually did, but Louis missed even that more than anything. 

They hadn’t been near as close after their loss and had been living with their grandparents, but Louis was doing his best to make things good for them so that they could have a future one day. He wants Lottie to be able to go to uni, he wants Daisy and Phoebe to pursue the fashion line they’d always dreamed of having, and most of all, he doesn’t want his younger siblings to have to worry about providing like he had.  _ Fuck _ , he misses them. 

There were times, like right now, when Louis wasn’t entirely sure that he was doing the right thing. Yes, he’s providing for his family, but what all was he missing while he was away? There would be first dates, school drama, formals, and important life lessons that Louis would miss out on teaching them about and experiencing with them because he was here and not at home. Then again, he  _ could _ be on his way home right now, but he was on this trip across the states with his friends instead. Lottie told him to go ahead, but had she really even meant it? It’s getting difficult to tell through the phone. 

At the end of the day, Louis knows he’s doing the right thing. It’s just the fact that he’s trading in all of his big brother duties to take on the parental duties which he also knows is not entirely fair to him, but life isn’t fair and Louis’ experienced that firsthand. He knows that it wouldn't do any good to throw a fit or to be dramatic, no matter how much he’s got bottled up inside, taking up all of the quiet spaces in his mind and filling them with constant noise. 

What matters most to him is knowing that he’s making the right decisions for the future, but recently he’d struggled to admit that maybe,  _ maybe _ he needed someone to share the weight on his shoulders with before it became too much for him altogether. 

Before, that person had been his mother. Now, there’s no one. 

Louis exhales shakily, shuts his eyes tight and waits until the car comes to a complete stop before he opens them again. 

——

When they arrive at the bridge it’s overcrowded and difficult to navigate, but luckily Liam has a plan for everything. He’d had the bike shop they’re going to mapped out before they’d even gotten in the car. 

Louis has no issue walking, but as Niall makes grabby hands at his shirt and whines in his ear nonstop over the five-minute trek, he considers maybe adopting Liam as his travel partner instead of the angry irishman. 

“My feet hurt,” Niall groans. 

“Oi, we aren’t even to the bikes yet,” Louis shrugs him off, “Why are you complaining so much?” 

Niall simply shakes his head and proceeds to bump his hip into Louis’ as they walk side by side on the pavement, Liam and Harry a few paces ahead of them since he knows where they’re going. He can hear Liam listing off facts that he’d researched beforehand to Harry, who just smiles fondly and nods along to his rambling without a complaint. 

Louis thinks the four of them probably look completely out of their element here, but he’s enjoying being somewhere where there was no looming presence of an upcoming assignment deadline or test hanging over his head. At least for the next month, he can just relax. 

The bridge is visible from where Louis’ swinging a leg onto his bike, and it stands tall in stark contrast with the rest of its plainly coloured surroundings. The bright orange that he’d pictured in his head was more of a dark, faded red in real life, but Louis unexpectedly finds himself a bit breathless at how spectacular it all seems up close. 

They ride down to the bridge after Niall figures out how to keep his balance, making a trip back and forth before finding a spot far enough away where they could take pictures. Harry snaps a few shots with his own camera in between. After waiting for him to pose ridiculously with the giant structure several times over in front of Liam’s phone, Niall suggests they all take a group photo. The passerby that Liam asked to take the shot snaps multiple of them, but Louis’ pretty sure that he was blinking nearly every time he pressed the button. 

“Okay, I think it’s time to see it up close,” Liam gets back on his bike and glances back at each of them, “Ready?” 

The others nod before falling into line behind him, riding toward the center of the bridge. This is the part Louis’ scared of, mainly because he doesn’t fancy being hit by a moving vehicle and he’d heard many horror stories about how people drove in the states. Luckily, Liam leads them to a spot near the other end of the bridge, far away from traffic but close enough to be able to stand right up near the bridge and see the view before they have to move on. 

Fixing his hair, Louis dismounts his bike and meets the others near the sidewalk, intent on seeing what everything below him looks like from this high up. 

Below him, the water sways hypnotizingly as he watches it with a look of wonder on his face. It’s been ages since Louis’ been anywhere like this, and he doesn’t even remember their trips to the beach when he was younger before his mother became ill. 

He can feel Harry on his side, too close for comfort but also somehow far away from him, like he knows Louis needs space to experience this moment for himself before sharing it with anyone else. There’s a chance he’s still reading too much into this. 

Niall’s on his other side and Liam’s beside him, as they all stand in silence atop the structure. For the first time since he’s known them, no one has anything to say. 

Being up here makes Louis feel small, which is something he struggles to admit that he enjoys. It makes him feel better to think about how little room he takes up in the world and gives him a break from feeling like everything rests on his shoulders. All of the cars miles away from them seem as small as ants, and the people even tinier. There’s no one to criticize him or make fun of him up here. 

Even just a few weeks prior, had Louis been here, he probably would’ve been considering jumping off into the dark water below him. As he leans forward to look out over it, he wonders what’s changed. 

——

Dinner is served a few blocks down from the bridge, at a small cafe in the city. They were seated almost immediately - Liam had called ahead - and the conversation flowed easily for the most part. They’re all tired from traveling and probably at least somewhat delirious, but they’re too hungry to care. 

“Can you believe it was that big? Like, I knew it was gonna be big but, like,” Niall’s eyes widen the more he speaks, and he makes various hand gestures to explain what he’s saying to the group. 

Harry’s too busy stuffing his face with breadsticks to notice anything and Liam types away on his phone, which leaves Louis to nod encouragingly at Niall as he talks more about the size of the bridge. Honestly, Louis’ just happy Harry isn’t making any inappropriate jokes. 

“Niall, look! The food!” Louis’ distraction works when the waiter returns, and Niall is effectively shut up for the time being. He smiles smugly to himself, but stops when he catches Harry smirking at him from the corner of his eye. 

“Thank you,” he turns to the waiter to avoid his gaze. 

Harry speaks up next. “How did they come out, Li?” 

“Huh?” Liam looked up from his phone, “oh! The pictures turned out really good. I’ll send them all to you guys in a minute. When did the food get here?” 

Harry chuckles and bites into his pasta as Liam set his phone down on the table. 

For the next few minutes, everything’s quiet while they all devour their meals, and then Harry’s ruining the evening by trying to talk to him  _ again _ . Wincing, Louis wonders if he’s really so daft that he doesn’t notice his bored expression, or if he just enjoys getting on Louis’ nerves. 

“What was your favorite part?” Harry’d finished half of his dish now and sat with his hands in his lap, looking expectantly at Louis. 

Harry’s got this way of looking at people when he’s talking to them that makes Louis fidgety. All of his attention is focused on who’s speaking, eyes centered on his lips and brows furrowed in thought, like Louis is the most fascinating thing that he’s ever seen. 

He doesn’t feel too special though, because he’s like this with everyone he meets. Louis thinks it’s why all of his conquests are so obsessed with him - he makes them feel like the only other person in the world. 

Rubbing his cheek with his hand, Louis tries to seem like he’s thinking. It isn’t something he’d ever admit out loud, but Louis’ awful with words. Never knows the right time to use which ones and what tone to say them in. And not only that, but he would especially never want  _ Harry _ to know that, when he’s so great with them. 

Louis has to give him that, at least. Harry speaks eloquently and slowly, and everyone pays attention when he opens his mouth. It’s the type of thing Louis could only dream of. 

He glances nervously around the table while he tries to think of something to say. Usually Niall would have provided an out, would’ve distracted Harry with another story or something, but when Louis glances over he’s  _ still _ shoving food into his mouth, pausing every so often to wipe his face with the back of his hand. He’ll have to come up with something on his own. 

“Uh, I think probably standing at the top, there at the end.” Louis nods, proud of himself for handling the conversation so nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, I think that was mine too. I like looking down over the water and watching the cars from a distance. It’s not quiet up there, but it was nice to feel like I had some sort of,” Harry pauses with a hand in the air, “ _ control _ for once, I think. Like there were no surprises or anything. Just stability.” 

When he’s finished talking, Harry goes back to stabbing pasta onto his fork as if he hadn’t just unloaded some sort of long term emotional baggage onto him. Louis was used to hearing stupid, shallow thoughts come out of him, but that had sounded genuine, almost. Like he wanted to get it off his chest. 

They’d come up with two entirely different meanings from being at the top of the bridge, but how ironic is it that Louis felt like he finally had no responsibilities and Harry felt like he finally had control of something? The psych major in him wants to sit and break it down, but Niall’s coughing catches his attention before he can. 

“Ni, buddy, slow down.” Liam pats him on the back when Niall chokes on a piece of bread, coughs, and then promptly belches. 

“Ew,” Louis cringes and Harry giggles as Liam slides his chair back quickly in response. 

“Thanks, Li.” 

Not pausing for a second, Niall just smiles and goes back to his meal. 

As much as Louis enjoys the food and the  _ titillating _ conversation, he desperately wants to go to bed. Compared to even his own home, a cool, sterile queen-sized bed sounds divine. He swallows the last few bites of his meal as slowly as he can, but he’s still finished before anyone else. It’s gotten dark outside the restaurant window and Louis turns to subtly glance at Liam. 

“Hey, Li, when can we check in to the hotel?” 

While he eats the last bite of his own sandwich, Liam glances down at his watch. 

“I think they said like an hour ago, so we should be good to go whenever we get done here.”

With an over dramatic sigh, Louis watches the others eat and taps his foot impatiently underneath the table. Niall excuses himself shortly after to go to the restroom while Liam gets up to pay the check, and just like that, he’s alone with Harry once again. 

It’s even darker now, and the more exhausted Louis feels the more likely he is to do something embarrassing and start acting like a brat. At least he’s self aware. 

He makes a show of huffing, looking at the direction the other two had left in, and tapping his foot even harder. In his haste, he hits Harry’s foot in the process.  _ Hard _ . And - yeah, that’s what he was talking about. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Louis jumps. 

“It’s fine.” Harry smiles at him with a slight raise of his eyebrows, as if to ask him  _ did you get what you wanted from throwing a fit _ ? It should infuriate him even more, but now Louis is just ashamed of his attitude, and  _ that’s _ not like him. 

Louis’ bright red face finds Liam walking back from the cashier and he stands up abruptly to meet him, leaving Harry the only one still seated. He doesn’t get up until Niall comes back from the bathroom, eyeing Louis warily as he does. 

“Is everything okay?” Liam looks skeptically between the two. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Harry drawls, amused, “Louis just attacked me.” 

Of course, Niall comes back then. 

“Louis did what?” He turns to Louis, “You did  _ what _ ? We talked about this.” 

Louis slides his hands down his sweating face and groans as Harry starts up again. 

“You guys talked about this?” He says. 

“I did not  _ attack _ him. I accidentally hit his foot with mine. That’s all. Can we please go to the hotel now?” He glances hopefully at Liam, hoping he can see the way Louis’ pleading with him through his eyes. 

“Uhm, yeah. Yeah, sure. Let’s just - go.” 

The foursome heads back toward the car talking normally, but Niall pulls Louis behind halfway there. 

“Why did you kick Harry? Did he say something to you?” 

“No. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine if you kicked him!” Niall whispers frantically. 

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t kick him. It was nothing,” Louis snaps, shoving Niall’s hand off of his arm, “Everything’s fine. Leave me alone.” 

Backing away, Niall raises his hands in defense and runs to catch back up to the others, leaving Louis by himself behind them. 

In his embarrassment, Louis may have yelled a bit too loudly at Niall, someone who he knew was sensitive. But he really hadn’t kicked him! And now, Harry knew that they’d talked about some part of that scenario beforehand, which was embarrassing enough by itself without lingering on it. 

While Liam starts the car, Louis returns to his nest in the backseat and daydreams about his bed in his apartment back home. He has  _ got _ to stop overthinking things. 

——

He’s shaken awake thirty minutes later when they pull up to the hotel. It’s pitch black outside when he looks out the window, and Louis’ groggy and disoriented as they grab their luggage from the trunk and check in. 

None of the boys are particularly chatty anymore, but Louis hadn’t been awake to hear what they had talked about in the car, either. He figures they’d been discussing him again while he wasn’t listening. 

Louis can almost make out his own reflection in the marble flooring under his feet as his suitcase rolls loudly behind him. He’s sure he looks even more exhausted than he feels. 

While Harry and Liam check them in at the front desk, Louis awkwardly toes at Niall’s shoe as his way of apologizing for telling him to leave him alone. He’s all smiles most of the time, but when Niall is angry it isn’t easy to lighten him up. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He’s on his phone again, doesn’t even glance up at Louis when he replies. 

“For what?” Niall asks flippantly. 

“For telling you to leave me alone. You know I don’t mean that. And for being dramatic.” 

After a tense couple of minutes, Niall pockets his phone and turns to look at Louis with his arms crossed. 

“I know you didn’t. But I’m getting real tired of you shutting me out when I’m just tryin’ to help. Okay?” 

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.” 

Niall hugs him after that, and although their conversation hadn’t totally helped with his anxiousness, he felt a bit lighter after knowing that Niall isn’t completely cross with him. Not yet, at least. 

One of these days he’s sure that Niall’s niceties will run out. This is a familiar cycle - something happens, Louis overreacts, Niall tries to help, and Louis tells him to go away. He’s surprised he’s even stuck around for this long. Louis makes a mental note to get him something really nice for his birthday. 

The four of them walk to the lift after Liam signals them over, and they’re given a short tour from the woman who checked them in. 

“...so don’t hesitate to give us a call should you need any assistance. Also, there’s complimentary breakfast in the morning if any of you are interested.” 

She smiles at them politely and excuses herself as Harry presses the button for the lift. 

“This is sweet. And free breakfast? I bet it’s so good, too. Probably pancakes, eggs, the whole lot.” Harry and Niall chat about the amenities while Louis considers his options for the night. He nudges Liam with his elbow. 

“Hey, did they say there was a pool here?” 

“Yeah, I think so. On the top floor,” Liam pats around his pockets before he hands Louis a card, “Here’s your key to get in if you want to go for a dip.” 

Louis slides it into his back pocket. 

“I think I will, yeah. Thanks.” 

While the others get settled into the room, Louis sets his bags down to search for his bathing suit. He hadn’t planned on going with the others, but a late night swim  _ alone _ sounds like just what he needs. 

They hadn’t had enough money to room separately at each stop of their trip, so two queen-sized beds were the only real option. Louis was sleeping with Niall and Harry was sleeping with Liam, to avoid any uncomfortable situations. 

He changes quickly in the bathroom and then slides out of their door as quietly as he can, making sure he has the key and locking it behind him as the others get ready for bed. Already feeling a bit more relaxed, Louis slides into the lift and sags against the wall as the doors shut. 

Louis’ exhausted and fairly certain he could sleep for a few days at this point, but he’s beginning to feel claustrophobic and they’d just left home a day ago. 

When he opens the door to the pool, he looks around to make sure that he’s alone before stepping in. To his delight, he’s the only one who decided to have a late night swim. Louis sets his key and phone down on a towel and slides off his shirt, laying it down next to them. 

The water is cold around his legs and up to his chest when Louis sinks down into it, and he blows out a steady breath at the feeling of weightlessness that comes along with it. Everything is quiet down here. 

Usually, Louis hates quiet. He considers it uncomfortable and a waste of valuable time that could be spent doing other things. But sometimes, if he makes himself be still long enough, it’s calming and gives him a break from all of the noise inside of his frantic head. It takes some effort, but usually it’s worth it if he manages to calm down even for just a few minutes. 

If he’s being honest with himself, he knows that the real reason he’s so restless is because he doesn’t know how to handle other people being angry with him, doesn’t really know how to handle  _ people _ in general. Which is ironic, considering what he’s studying. 

He feels close with Liam, and even more so with Niall, but even he hadn’t seen Louis at his lowest yet. On his good days, he’d get out and eat with them, talk and catch up and try to joke around a bit. But on his bad days, which were most days, really, Louis stays indoors by himself. He isn’t much fun when he’s down about something, and Niall has such a bright energy that Louis doesn’t want to put a damper on. 

Sometimes he thinks that Liam would understand if he told him how he was feeling, but then Louis’ got this picture in his mind of him patting him on the back and saying  _ drink more water _ or something else ignorant like that. Liam’s very kind and he always means well, but as far as Louis knows he hasn’t ever had to go through anything similar and probably wouldn’t be able to relate. 

Within their group, the only one who might actually, truly understand him is Harry. It sort of pains him to say it, but he knows it’s true. Harry’s the only one who’s gone through almost everything Louis has, in a weird, parallel-universe kind of way. They’d each lost a parent, they both openly liked guys, and they’d both been ruthlessly judged by the majority of their peers in uni. 

Several times in the past, Louis’d thought about calling him up, when things got really bad, just to see if he’d still be just as frustratingly kind as he usually was despite Louis’ attitude. It drives him insane, Harry’s niceness, because Louis doesn’t deserve it. Not one bit. But Harry’s never been anything but perfectly fair with him. 

He shuts his eyes and leans against the tile on the side of the pool. His arms are still crossed, but his body is beginning to relax as he adjusts to the temperature. Louis moves his neck back and forth and rolls his tense shoulders outward to get the muscles to ease. 

The last time he cried was at his mother’s funeral. Or, right after her funeral. He’d tried to be strong the whole day for his siblings and the rest of his family, and he wanted to prove that he really could be the man of his house. His brothers and sisters had been a right mess, latching onto one another and crying non-stop, asking Louis why this had to happen to them. Louis had shrugged helplessly and kept his mouth shut in an effort not to cry along with them. 

As soon as they all went to bed that night though, Louis had shut his door and sobbed for hours. He wasn’t even sure when he had stopped and fallen asleep. He cried for his mother, for his siblings and for himself. Angry and alone, he’d punched the floor and muffled his screams into his pillow atop his childhood bed, hoping that no one could hear him but also hoping that maybe someone would. 

He’s past all of that, but he desperately feels like crying now for some reason. It isn’t like it usually is, there’s no sense of deep sadness or discontent looming over his head, but it’s still very much present in the front of his mind. What if Niall told them about his dislike for Harry and now it would be weird? What if Liam didn’t actually like him and just invited him to be nice? What if Niall had finally gotten tired of Louis snapping at him so much and secretly hated him? 

These questions have no merit and they’re overdramatic, but he’s sleep deprived and insecure and they still stung when they pass behind his eyelids. He’s also out of his element - used to being by himself and his strict, lonely routine, not around three other considerably normal guys that Louis considers to be way out of his friend-league. 

As he dips further under the water, he holds his breath and allows himself to keep sinking, so that if anyone happened to walk in they don’t see the tears sliding down his cheeks. 

That night, when he lifts up the covers and slides into bed, Niall rolls over to check on him. 

“Everything okay?” 

Louis squeezes his eyes shut again. He loves Niall so much.

“Yeah,” Louis pauses, “yeah. Everything’s fine.” 

One more lie couldn’t hurt. 

——

Their second day in San Francisco starts out relatively better than the day before. Liam nudges him awake just as Harry’s opening the curtains, flooding the room with bright white light. 

“C’mon, Lou. Breakfast time,” Liam reminds him, “They close in thirty minutes.” 

Since they’d seen the main attraction yesterday, they were scheduled to have a relaxing day today before they left the following night. Louis finds himself surprised at his excitement to go and explore without any time limits. It’d been a while since he’d been out of the house. But first - a big, fattening, home-style breakfast is in order. 

Despite his late night dramatics the day before, Louis feels rested and ready to make today a better day. He thought he might do some sight seeing and maybe see what they had available at the spa in the hotel. Having been advised by Liam beforehand, Louis brought some extra cash just in case there were any luxuries that he wanted to indulge in on his own. That’d been another point he felt guilty about before, but he shakes it off and jogs to catch up with the others at the lift. 

“I hope there’s a lot left. I’m starved.” 

Niall rubs his stomach thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, me too,” Harry agrees, “I feel like I haven’t eaten in ages.”

The buffet is exactly what they needed, and by the time they find a table to settle at all of their plates are stacked high with breakfast items. Liam and Niall had even filled up two, struggling to make it back to where they’re sitting without dropping anything. 

Louis sips on his orange juice and stares openly at Liam while he tries to fit two biscuits in his mouth at once. He pauses with his mouth fully open when he catches his gaze. 

“What,” he complains, “Niall can do it and I can’t?” 

Louis just rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair, picking up another strip of bacon. 

“How did everyone sleep?” Harry asks after he swallows a mouthful of his toast. 

“Like a rock! I feel amazing,” Liam chimes. 

Niall nods, “Yeah, those beds are pretty sweet.” 

Harry glances sideways at Louis, waiting for his answer. 

“Oh, yeah. I slept pretty good.” He smiles. 

Harry nods at him and then turns his attention back to his food.  _ See _ , Louis thinks,  _ this isn’t so hard _ . He can talk to Harry just fine. Since Harry doesn’t know about his  _ feelings _ , he’s the only one feeling awkward about it, and that’s just pointless. He really  _ is _ in a good mood today. 

As Louis finishes the rest of his breakfast, he considers more about all of the things he wants to do today. Maybe he could even have another swim. And that massage was sounding better and better. Louis decided he’ll call them when he gets back up to the room. 

“What are the plans for today, then?”  _ Harry _ . 

“I don’t know yet. I was thinking maybe we could go down to Fisherman’s Wharf for a bit then walk around the Golden Gate Park? We can see the water and then chill and get something to eat around dinner?” 

Uh-oh. Liam looks nervous. He’s trying to sound spontaneous, but Louis knows him well enough to know that he was planning this ahead of time and was probably really excited to go and do those things. If Louis spoke up about his other plans now, Liam would be sad, and Louis doesn’t like it when Liam is sad. 

“Sounds good to me, buddy,” Niall pats him on the back. 

“Yeah, that sounds really fun, Liam!” 

For the second time that morning, all eyes are on Louis. 

“I -” Louis glances down at the table, then at Liam, “yeah. That sounds really nice.” 

“Okay, so it’s settled,” Harry says, “we can finish eating and then get ready to head out.” 

Taking a deep breath, Louis contemplates his feelings. That usually helps, when he’s stressed. It allows him to take a step back and consider all of the factors that are making him feel bad and then decide how to improve them. He rarely ever makes any real changes, Louis’ either too tired or simply can’t be bothered to adjust his way of living, but he thinks it’s a good exercise nonetheless. 

He should be having the time of his life, is the thing. He’s out of uni now, he’s a young, single guy, and he’s on a lad’s trip for an entire month with no work or chores to complete or worry about. There’s got to be something wrong with him. How does he manage to find the downside of every good thing in his life? 

Niall shoves one last biscuit into a to-go napkin before telling them he’s ready, effectively cutting off Louis’ train of thought. 

By the time they’re back in the car, Louis’ mood has improved a little more. Niall offers to ride shotgun, but Louis sits up front with Liam anyway before he can reach the car. 

He does his best to make conversation with him over the forty-five minute drive, and Liam smiles at him a lot. At least they’re happy Louis’ on the trip, it makes him feel better. He lets him tell him all about where they’re going for the remainder of the ride and nods when he thinks he should. 

Pulling into the parking garage, Louis swears he hears Niall say his name to Harry, but Liam is ushering them all out before he can question anything too much. Louis makes a mental note to pull Niall aside later. 

Fisherman’s Wharf turns out to be smaller than Louis imagined, but he’s happy for that. It’s right up next to the water, and Liam said that they had souvenirs, food, and maybe even some games and rides they could try. The set-up isn’t what Louis had planned for himself, but he has to admit, Liam makes it sound fun. 

“What should we do first?” He asks Liam. 

“I was going to take a walk by the water first, and then maybe look around for some shops and other things we could do.” 

Louis nods and follows closely behind Liam as he leads them all by the map on his phone. 

It’s very colorful here, and Louis’ entranced by all of the different themes going on around them. Couples and families hold hands and laugh on either side of him, and Louis tries not to let them be a reminder that, right now, he has neither of those luxuries. 

Turning to glance at the others sheepishly, Niall stops in front of a cotton candy stand. 

“Really, Niall?” 

“Yes, Liam.” Niall stomps his foot, pointing, “Look at it!” 

When he whines that they should get some, Liam simply raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

“You have cash, don’t you?” 

Niall rubs his chin,“Uhm...no?” 

“What do you mean no? We agreed to bring extra money for the little things!” 

“I did!” Niall jumps, “I did. But I sort of left my wallet back at the hotel.”

Louis cuts Liam off before he can reprimand him again. 

“I've got it,” he turns to the man working the stall, “it’s only a dollar, right?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Louis hands over cash for all four of them, and Niall gets so excited that he lifts Louis completely off of the ground and swings him around until he has to stop and grab his change. 

“Thanks, Lou!” 

The other two thank him as well when they’re handed their own serving, and then they’re walking toward the pier once again. 

“Thank you, Louis.” Harry smiles at him, taking a bite of his cotton candy. 

“Yeah. No problem, mate.” Louis smiles back. 

He really wishes Harry would stop being so nice to him. It’s making things confusing and giving Louis a headache. 

The water flows slowly underneath them as Louis takes a seat beside the others on the dock, eating his food. It’s bright outside today, and Louis wishes he’d brought some sunglasses. He squints against the reflection of the sun on the water between bites, swinging his crossed ankles back and forth and listening to their conversation. 

“I’m so glad I’m here and not in class right now. I don’t know what I would do if we had to go back next year.” 

“It’s not like you actually did any of the assignments, Ni, but sure.” Harry laughs. 

Niall scoffs from the other end of the group, looking past Liam and Louis to glare at him. 

“Yeah, whatever. But just think, no more fuckin’  _ Miss Harrison _ . Drunk bitch didn’t even know how to teach properly.” 

Liam makes a move to snatch Niall’s cotton candy from him while Harry snickers. 

“O -  _ kay _ . I think that’s enough sugar for you, man.” 

Unperturbed, Niall just snatches it back and sticks out his tongue at Liam before shoving the rest of it in his mouth in one big bite. 

“Anyway…” Liam raises his eyebrows and looks back toward the other two. 

The top Harry’s chosen to wear today has got glitter on it, and it’s making the reflection on the water that much sharper. Only Harry could get away with wearing  _ glitter _ out as a casual outfit. It’s obnoxious and Louis hates it but it also brings out the color in his eyes nicely so Louis does his best to just not think about it at all. 

“I was thinking of going to look at the shops?” Harry suggest, “I want to bring something back for mum and Gemma.” 

There’s a change in tone and a small, sweet smile playing at the corners of Harry’s lips after mentioning his family, and Louis glares harder down at the water. 

“Alright, sounds like a plan. C’mon, Ni.” 

“Liam, stop telling me what to do.”

Standing up from the dock, Harry smiles at the two. 

Liam groans, “Louis, why did you buy Niall sugar?” 

Louis shrugs and quickly walks off behind Harry, leaving Liam to deal with a cranky and sugar-high Niall. Louis’ been stuck caring for him more times than he can count - he thinks Liam should be able to handle it this once. 

The first store they go in is for Harry, and it’s full of postcards, t-shirts, and souvenirs from San Francisco. Louis looks around for something to buy for his own siblings or for Niall’s birthday, but nothing seems quite right. As a family, they’d never been very materialistic,  _ couldn’t _ be very materialistic, and Louis doesn’t feel like they’re expecting anything from him. He’d buy something if it felt right, he decides. 

Harry, on the other hand, exits the shop with two bags in hand, showing the others the shirts and mugs he bought for his mum and sister. 

“I think she’ll really like it. And Gem has been  _ obsessed _ with mugs recently.” 

Harry looks giddy, and Louis mirrors his smile as he watches him practically bounce up and down. He catches himself a minute later and returns to his regularly scheduled stoic demeanor, but it was a nice moment. 

“Anywhere else you guys want to stop? Lou, Ni?” Liam asks, looking up at them from his phone. 

Louis shakes his head, but Niall’s already leading them toward somewhere else. 

“Yeah, I saw this one clothing store that looked real posh when we walked up. I was gonna go in and try on a bunch of clothes and then walk out without buying anything. Just to piss ‘em off.” 

Despite his responsible streak, Liam laughs and follows Niall into the store. Louis stops at a bench near the front to sit down. 

“I think I’m gonna just sit and wait for you guys out here,” he calls after them, pulling out his phone. 

“Suit yourself!” Niall yells back. 

Harry bites the inside of his cheek for a second before yelling, “Yeah, me too.” 

They’re long gone inside the store when Harry sits down beside him, leaning back and crossing his legs on the bench with his hands in his pockets. Louis waits for him to say something, halfway hoping he will and halfway hoping he won’t. 

“I’m really glad you came on the trip.” 

Brows furrowed, Louis turns to look at him for an explanation. 

“Why?” 

_ This should be interesting _ , Louis thinks. 

“Well, I always sort of had this idea that you, well, that you hated me.” Harry’s fingers tapped on his thigh as he gives a small laugh, “I guess I was just hoping that this trip could be good for like, getting to know each other a bit better and everything. I know Liam and Ni pretty well but I feel like I never really got the chance to know you, you know, properly. Yeah.”

Harry talks slow, his voice deep and smooth and sticking like molasses to the inside of Louis’ brain. It takes him a minute to process what he’s just said. He replays the words in his head as he scrambles for something to say, feeling Harry’s eyes on the side of his face. He doesn’t understand why Harry makes him so nervous. 

“You -  _ do you _ hate me?” 

Harry uncrosses his legs and leans forward to get a better look at Louis. 

“No! No. I’m just a really, um, private person. And I’ve known Liam and Niall a lot longer than you, so. That’s all.” 

“Oh, okay. Good. I would’ve felt awful if you’d disliked me.”

The smile that Harry wore so often materializes back in place between his dimples, and Louis is surprised he’d been able to think of that off the top of his head. Harry still isn’t done. 

“Oh, and I got these for, um, you. At the last store.”

He hands Louis a smaller bag from inside the one he’d shown to the group and Louis peeks suspiciously inside. When he pulls out a new pair of sunglasses and looks at Harry questioningly, he scrambles to explain. 

“I saw you squinting earlier, in the sun. And all of us brought ours except for you, so I saw them in the store and, yeah. The receipt is still in the bottom if you really hate them.”

“Wow, thank you,” Louis stutters, “I - it was really bright. I don’t know why I left mine back at home. Didn’t think of it when I was packing, I guess.” 

Liam and Niall reappear after that, laughing hysterically and yelling at Harry and Louis to run. Louis exhales shakily. 

“C’mon, c’mon!” 

The shopkeeper comes out to glare at the group, but they’re already halfway back to the car. Louis’ kind of concerned. 

“What did you  _ do _ , Niall?” 

“Nothing! I did nothing!” 

While they catch their breath, Louis slips back into the front seat.

Golden Gate Park is only twenty minutes away, and twenty minutes closer to their hotel where Louis can finally go and get his massage after they’re done walking around. It sounds even better now than it had earlier. 

“Oh, Haz,” Liam adjusts the mirror to glance back at Harry, “didn’t you pack your camera?” 

“Shit, yeah. I did. I can’t believe I forgot it yesterday and today. I wanted to get pictures at every stop.” 

Louis can feel Harry’s frown from where he’s sitting. He knows what Liam’s about to say before the words leave his mouth. 

“Why don’t we go get it?”

“Oh no, that’s okay. It’s my bad anyway. I don’t want to make you guys drive that much further.”

Liam shakes his head and waves a hand in the air. 

“It’s fine. Right guys?” Without pausing to check if it’s actually alright, he continues, “You won't be able to get the bridge and the pier but you can start with the park?” 

“Okay, um, if you guys are sure. That would be great.” 

When Niall nods and Louis doesn’t say anything, Harry speaks up again. 

“Louis?” He asks, “Is it okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

Louis knows they can all tell he doesn’t actually think it’s alright, but Liam is already headed back toward their hotel. Niall reaches forward to flip on the radio and then settles back in next to Harry behind them. 

“What are you gonna do with the pictures?” 

“I want to have them printed and then probably make a book of them that I can look back at in the future. I can make some for you guys, too, if you want.” 

“Sweet!” 

When Liam and Harry get out to get Harry’s camera, Niall flicks Louis’ ear from the backseat. 

“Ow,” he complains, “what?” 

“How’s it going? Did you guys talk while Li and I were in the store?”

“Yes. Did you know he was going to stay outside, too?”

Niall shakes his head innocently. 

“No. I had no idea,” he leans in closer, “so, what did you guys talk about?” 

Louis’ beginning to think that this whole trip was just an elaborate cover up so that Niall and Liam could force Harry and him into the same area for a month. He sighs. 

“We talked about how the trip is a chance to get to know each other better.”

“And you said…?” 

“What was I supposed to say, Niall? No? Of course I said okay. Now stop harassing me, they’re coming back.” 

Just as Niall’s moving back, Liam swings open his door, sitting back down and buckling his seat belt. 

“Okay, you guys ready?” 

“Been ready, Liam.”

He’s never been as close to Liam as Niall, but everyone sort of knows how Louis works at this point. They don’t comment when he acts like a brat. He slides on his new sunglasses, pleasantly surprised that they fit perfectly, and ignores them. 

The radio drones on while they retrace the drive back to the park they’d already passed on the way to the hotel, and Louis waits for Liam to parallel park several times over before he opens the door to get out. 

It’s hotter now than it was earlier, and the sun is right over their heads. Louis is thankful for Harry’s thoughtful gift. Slightly in awe, really, but he’s sure the feeling will fade. It always does. 

The park is beautiful, even more so than Liam had explained. Multi-colored flowers sprawl out over the freshly cut grass and Louis thinks back to when he would help his mother with her garden. He produces a melancholic smile at the memory. 

A flash goes off somewhere next to him, and when he looks over Harry’s lowering the camera back to his side. Louis figures he’s just shooting the flowers, then wonders if he’s going to have to deal with that noise the entire time they’re out. Liam points over at the stairs. 

“I think we should all get a picture over there, on the steps, before we leave.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

Harry poses them, getting a picture of just Louis, Liam, and Niall, before setting the self-timer and running up to where they are just a second before it goes off. 

“You definitely have to send me these, H, I’m having a  _ fantastic _ hair day.”

Niall strikes a pose and runs a hand through his hair and Harry snaps another picture, everyone laughing at his expression. 

No matter how hard he tries to deny it, he’s actually having a good time. Louis isn’t sure if it’s fully registered yet, that this is what having fun is like, but he can vaguely recognize the signs. He can’t remember the last time he smiled or laughed this much in one day. 

“This was a really good idea, Li.” 

Liam turned to look at Louis, seeming surprised that he sounded sincere, but composing himself enough to reply. 

“Yeah, I just thought it might be cool to get out and see everything we could. I know you probably wanted to relax, though.” 

“I did, but I think this is better for me than just, you know, being alone.” 

He probably thinks that Louis’ talking about taking a picture, but Louis hopes he can tell that he means much more than that. 

Liam opens his mouth to say something else, but Niall and Harry call for them to head to the other side of the park and sit down and he shakes his head. When they’re there, Louis makes himself comfortable under the shade of a tree, relaxing and cooling off a bit from the sun. 

“Good work today, Payno. I had a blast.” Niall pulls a pack of assorted nuts from his pocket and begins chewing them obnoxiously, trying to throw them into his mouth. The three of them look at him. “What?” 

Laughing, Harry takes a sip of his water bottle and clears his throat. 

“Okay, so I can probably get these pictures to you guys soon if you want. I just need your phone numbers. I already have Niall’s and Liam’s, so,” he pauses, glancing up at Louis for his answer. Niall quickly cuts him off. 

“I’ll just give it to you later, mate.” He smiles awkwardly at Harry. 

“No, no. It’s fine. Just give me your phone,” Louis holds out a hand, “I’ll put it in.” 

He doesn’t turn to look at Niall for a reaction. The last thing he needs right now is for him to act weird again and have Liam and Harry question him. After accidentally kicking him, Louis’ doing his best to act nonchalant enough that Harry doesn’t think any differently of his opinion. 

Before he hands Louis the phone, he shares a surprised, yet smug look with Liam. 

“Okay, here.”

Louis takes his time typing in his number, waiting for anyone to make conversation and to stop looking at him but they just stare openly as he shakily inputs the digits, entering  _ Louis :) _ as the name, and hands it back to Harry. 

“Well,” Liam starts, “it’s already almost six now. Maybe we should head back to the hotel?” 

“That sounds fantastic, Liam,” Louis chimes. 

He’s the first back to the car and the first out of it when they finally get back, but he’s been social all day long and if Louis doesn’t get some time to himself soon he’s afraid he may combust, and that’s definitely not on Liam’s itinerary for the day. 

He practically runs from the lift to their hotel room so he can change into his bathing suit and go down to the pool. Liam is packing his things back into his suitcase meticulously in an effort to stay organized, stopping every now and then to type on his phone. Niall plops down onto the bed and flips on the television after he changes into his sleep clothes, and Harry stayed in the lobby to take a phone call and said that he’d be up in a minute. Louis hopes he doesn’t run into him on the way down. 

He decides to use the stairs to be safe, and takes them two at a time in his hurry to get there. Sliding his key into the scanner and opening the door, he walks into the pool area. 

He stops abruptly when he hears Harry’s voice, peeking around the corner and seeing him sitting on a folding chair. He’s still on the phone and hadn’t heard Louis come in, so he steps back into a dark spot next to the door and listens. So apparently he’s both a liar  _ and _ an eavesdropper now.  _ Fantastic _ , he thinks. 

Harry laughs several times and Louis can feel him smiling even from this far away. He can make out the sound of a woman’s voice on the other end and Louis scoffs silently to himself. There’s no way he’s talking to a girl right now. 

“I know, I know. I can’t believe it either. I’m a graduated man now.” 

_ Is this the Harry Styles magic? _ Louis wonders. Mindless, stupid discussion about graudating uni? Just when Louis thought he was changing, too. Harry listens silently to the girl on the phone for a few more minutes before he speaks up again. 

“Yeah, it’s going really well, actually. The guys are great. It’s nice to get out for a bit and see all of these things I grew up hearing about.”

Okay, there’s no way this is someone Harry’s courting. Louis leans forward to get a better view. 

“I am being safe, I promise.” Harry chuckles, “Now can you please put Gem on the phone?” 

There’s more silence. Louis can see Harry’s foot dipping in and out of the water while he waits for  _ Gem _ to come to the phone. 

“Hey! Yeah, I’m good. I’m really good.” There he goes, dimpling again. “Yeah, it’s Liam, Niall, and Louis.”

Another pause. 

“Yes, Gem. Tomlinson.” Harry sighs. 

Louis is thoroughly confused. So, this was someone from their school, then? How else would they know his name? Louis fears that the insinuation would not be good - it often wasn’t. He holds his breath and waits to see how Harry replies. 

“I don’t really know. I’m trying, like I always have. No such luck, though. Yeah, I’ll keep you updated. I love you. And tell mum bye and I love her too.” 

Harry hangs up the phone and Louis springs into action, opening the door and running out of it and down the hall before darting back up the staircase. Embarrassingly, he’s out of breath within seconds, but he has to get back before Harry or else the guys would ask him about the pool in front of him, and he’d be busted. 

He slides the card in the door, panting, and finds Liam and Niall asleep in their spots on each bed when he steps in. Louis breathes deeply in relief and heads to change out of his bathing suit in the bathroom. 

If that’d been Harry’s sister, why did she mention him by name? There had to be some sort of history there, but Louis couldn’t think of a time he’d ever stood out in Harry’s life except for this trip. 

He runs his hands down his face and shifts when he slides into bed, trying to get comfortable and not wake Niall up in the process. Louis really hopes that he didn’t do something embarrassing to Harry’s sister. He’d had his share of mortifying stories from the mornings after parties and get-togethers that hadn’t ended too well. If she happened to have been at any of them, she surely would’ve known his name. 

Harry opens the door thirty minutes later, and Louis wonders where he’d been as he stills abruptly against the sheets. He hears him brush his teeth in the bathroom before he and Liam exchange sleepy goodnights, and then everything is quiet once again. 

——

The morning before they leave for Los Angeles, Louis decides to go down and explore on his own for a bit. 

There’s a whole line of shops right outside of their hotel, and Louis has yet to pursue them. He figures now, while the other three are upstairs reminiscing on the first stop, would be the perfect time. 

While he walks the distance to the first one, Louis tries to mentally review the trip so far. It hadn’t been that bad yet. All things considered, he’d actually had a pretty good time. It was certainly better than his everyday life back in London, that much he was sure of. 

He slows his steps to look in the windows of the shops, deciding which ones he wants to go into. 

There’s still a guilty presence in the back of his mind, reminding him that he has yet to get anything for his family back home. The rest of the boys had picked out at least something, even if it was small. Louis figures maybe he should do the same, just to be on the safe side. 

The first store that he goes into feels entirely too fancy. Everything Louis picks up seems to be priced extremely high, and he isn’t even that fond of any of the souvenirs they’ve got to offer. His family probably wouldn’t even like anything like this, anyway. He sets down the cup he was looking at and retraces his steps back to the exit. 

Nextdoor, a bell chimes as he enters, and the lady behind the counter greets him warmly when he walks further inside.  _ This is much better _ , he thinks. 

The shelves are stacked too high with stereotypical memorabilia, mugs printed with their logo and key chains with the  _ Welcome to San Francisco _ sign on them. Louis passes them until he finds the back of the place, adorned with shirts of every color. Those have typical prints on them as well, but Louis spotted them the minute he walked in and they all look insanely comfortable. 

He picks one out almost immediately, reaching out a hand to touch the soft cotton. It’s light blue, and it has black writing all on the back of it which is slightly tacky, really, but Louis loves it. It immediately makes him think of his mother, since it’d been her favorite color. In some ways, it even reminds him of Harry. It seems like something he would wear. Reaching back behind the one on display, Louis grabs one two sizes too big for him and takes it to the checkout. 

He’d always provided for his family, with everything he did. His school, his job, everything he did was for their benefit. This trip is  _ his _ . Louis is going to let himself have it no matter what, even if his siblings don’t like it, starting with this tacky, blue shirt. 

The woman behind the counter rings it up for him, giving him a discount and winking at him as he takes the bag from her. 

Somewhere in the back of his head, when Louis is back home working a full-time job and putting food on the table for his siblings, he can picture himself sliding into bed in this very shirt, hugging it tight around him and hearing the laughter of his friends inside of his head, reminding him that he isn’t completely alone. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)


	2. 0.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> san francisco --> los angeles --> vegas

_ Harry _

The first time Liam and Niall came to him with their idea for a big summer road trip, Harry’d turned them down. That was around the anniversary of his step father’s passing, and the absolute last thing he wanted was to be locked inside of a van with Louis Tomlinson. Now, six months later, here he is, running frantically around their shared hotel room looking for his other sock before they get back on the road to their second stop. 

It isn’t really that Harry has an issue with him, in fact it’s the complete opposite. He’d been trying for a few years now to be as kind as humanly possible to Louis, and he’s gotten nothing but sarcasm and brattiness in return. Harry figures it’d be a lot easier to deal with if he actually knew why he was being treated that way, but he isn’t willing to say anything to Louis’ face. Not quite yet, at least. 

To be fair, he’d expected much worse. He can handle a little snark from the smaller man, so long as he doesn’t bite too hard. He’d meant it when he asked Louis if they could be friends the day before. He was raised to kill people with kindness, and it’s always worked for him in the past. He’s fairly certain that Louis thinks Harry has no idea of his dislike for him, but he’s not surprised - Louis rarely pays attention to anyone but himself. 

Harry doesn’t have time to ponder when he’s hit in the back of the head by a shoe, letting out a very manly squeak. He reaches up to rub the spot, turning over his shoulder to glare at Niall. 

“We were supposed to be on the road fifteen minutes ago! Liam is going to kill us if we don’t get down there.” Niall slides on his jacket and heads for the door. “He’s already pulled the car ‘round.” 

Huffing, he jogs down to the lift and Niall taps his foot impatiently while they wait for it. Harry smirks. He’s been waiting to get a moment to talk to Niall. 

“I think the Louis thing is going well.” 

Niall freezes as Harry turns to him inside the lift, his face turning red and looking straight ahead at the doors. He often does that when Harry brings up Louis to him. Harry thinks maybe Niall knows why, and if he’s lucky and plays his cards right on this trip, there’s a chance he can get it out of him and finally have an answer. Niall and Louis have always been close. 

He hums in agreement but won’t meet his eyes, “Yeah, I guess.”

Harry nods as the doors slide open and they walk out to the car. He’d take that for right now. It would probably take a bit for Niall to open up to him the way he did with Louis, even though Niall was awful at keeping secrets. This could work in his favor, if he stepped carefully. 

Niall knows that Harry wants to get closer to Louis in their friend group, he’d told him as much every time he got the chance. That dream slowly faded over the years, but Harry still has a little bit of hope left. 

Liam had always been his closest friend, stuck by him for all of the years since they’d met without fail. Harry thought of him like a brother. Niall was great, too, and they got along splendidly, but they just hadn’t clicked as well as him and Liam and Harry often got a sinking feeling that it was all because of Louis. He finds it incredibly frustrating to not be able to apologize or rectify whatever made someone hate him - he’s never done well with conflict. 

“It’s about time,” Liam shouts back at him as Harry swings open his door, “we’ve been waiting on you two for a good twenty minutes now.” 

“Sorry, sorry. It was my bad, I couldn’t find my other sock.”

He hears Louis scoff behind his head and thinks for a moment about turning around to ask him what his issue is, but takes a calming breath instead, buckling his seat belt and reaching for the bag that had his headphones. He’d have to get down here first tomorrow and take Niall’s seat in the front. 

They have a good few hours before they’d arrive in L.A., and Harry fully plans to take advantage of his headphones and his Kindle which he’d packed for this specific reason. Liam told him before they’d left that he could play his music in the car, but Louis hadn’t seemed very keen on that the day before. To be completely honest, Harry doesn’t really care, but right now he’s in the mood to keep to himself anyway. 

His poor mood confuses him, and he can’t think of anything that would have made him so irritated within the last few hours, but he attributes it to his little sleep and reclines back to get comfortable in his seat. It’s hard, admittedly, because he knows Louis’ sprawled out on the seats behind him and Harry wouldn’t put it past him to put something in his hair or to tease him while he had his music in and couldn’t hear him. 

The playlist he clicks on is one of his favorites, the result of all of his different music tastes combined. It’s got a bit of everything and Harry’s found that it works for pretty much any mood he’s in. Because he studies music, sometimes it’s difficult to step out of the headspace of critiquing the lyrics, but on the days when his head seems too crowded it’s a welcome distraction. 

Last year, he’d made Liam and Niall a playlist because they asked him to. Harry gave each song extra special attention and made sure that the whole list seemed like it matched their personalities before he sent them. He also had one for his sister and his mum and Robin, just because he enjoyed making them so much. It seemed like such a special gesture to dedicate songs to people. 

Harry readjusts his long legs into the seat and opens his Kindle once he’s settled on a song, thinking about which songs he’d put in a  _ Louis _ playlist as they pull onto the highway. 

——

Groggy and disoriented, Harry wakes up a few hours later with drool on the side of his face, pressed tightly against the car door. He opens his eyes slowly and shuts his mouth, using his hand to wipe the side of his face as he pulls out his headphones, and turns to face Niall. 

“How much longer?” His voice cracks. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Niall cheers, “We’re about fifteen minutes out from the hotel.” 

Laughing, Liam nods. 

“Yeah, you slept for a good five hours, mate.” 

Harry nods and puts his Kindle back into his bag, listening closely to see if Louis is awake or not. He can hear music coming quietly from behind him and figures he has his headphones in like Harry had. He can’t tell, but Harry hopes he isn’t looking while he shakes out his hair the way he knows Louis hates and readjusts it to his liking. 

A few minutes later, Liam pulls up under the driveway of their crowded hotel parking lot and is greeted promptly by valet. Harry opens his door and goes to get the bags from the back while Liam and Niall talk to him about the area. 

Louis had apparently been awake after all, sitting upright already when Harry goes to open the trunk. Watching as he frantically climbs out over the middle row of seats, Harry frowns and turns back to getting his things. It’s like he’s got some sort of disease that only Louis’ aware of. 

_ Kindness _ , he thinks to himself,  _ maybe Louis doesn’t know what kindness is _ . Either way, Harry refuses to stoop to his level. 

On most of the traveling days of their trip, Liam had planned an afternoon to themselves and Harry intended to make the most of it. The beach was only a few miles down the road from here so he could walk if he wanted to. He thought maybe he’d sit and watch the ocean for a bit, call his mum if he felt like it, then get some food and head back to the hotel when it got dark. 

They would spend three days here, too, and Liam has the next two filled with other tourist activities. Usually Harry enjoyed living freely and seeing how things played out, but he had to admit it was rather nice to have a plan to refer back to. 

Unlike Louis, Harry looks forward Liam’s suggestions. That was one of the reasons he wanted to come with them. He doesn’t have to worry about wasting time, or if he’s doing the most interesting thing he could be doing, because Liam’s created an organized list and asked each of them to review it beforehand and tell him if they wanted anything changed. Harry’s fairly certain he was the only one who’d actually looked at it, but at least he knew where they were going. Niall and Louis never seemed to stop asking him, but Liam always just smiled and reminded them politely. Harry has no idea how he has so much patience. 

As they check in at the front desk, Harry trails behind and lets Louis walk with the other two, unsure of exactly why he does that. 

He thinks it’s because sometimes it seems like it has to be one or the other, like either Harry or Louis gets to be the center of attention and conversation and not both. But then other days Niall talks to Louis and Liam talks to Harry and everything is fine. Harry’s not surprised, in four years he hasn’t come across one thing yet that involves Louis that  _ hasn’t _ confused him. Regardless, today seems like one of those days. 

From his spot behind them, Harry surveys the room and the people rushing in and out of the revolving glass doors. He likes the idea of L.A., but he doesn’t think he’d ever have the energy, or money, to live here. Against his better judgment, Harry allows himself to absorb some of the optimism radiating off of everyone else, like maybe there’s a chance something exciting might happen here. 

The lift has mirrors on all sides, and Niall entertains himself by pretending to make out with his reflection as they ride all the way up to the top floor. Liam grimaces and produces a wet wipe from his backpack. 

“That is  _ so _ unsanitary, mate.” 

When they step off, Louis grabs the card from Liam’s hand and darts down the hall in search of their room. He finds it a few moments later, swiping the card in front of the sensor and raising a hand in the air triumphantly when it flashes green. 

The room is fancy, and for a moment Harry wonders how they afforded it, but upon closer inspection he sees the stains on the floor and the scratches on the wall. He ignores them. He’s trying, for everyone’s sake, to be optimistic. 

As Louis flops down onto the bed closest to the window, Niall squeals. 

“This is amazing, Li. Look at that view!” 

He pulls the curtains all the way open and light illuminates the room, making Harry squint as he sets his bags down on his and Liam’s bed. 

“I know, I wasn’t expecting it to be this nice,” Liam answers, looking up from his phone to laugh at Niall’s excitement. 

As they settle in, Harry tells Liam he’ll be back later and slips out, grabbing a key off the counter and making sure he’s got his wallet. He’d found a map of where he wanted to go in the car earlier, and he pulls it up on his phone while he waits for the lift again. 

The weather is supposed to be nice while they’re here, still a bit hot and humid from summer but cooling down rapidly in preparation for the next season. He’d packed a jacket but left it in their room, assuming he wouldn’t need it. 

As it turns out, the beach is even closer than he thought, and it only takes him a few minutes before there’s hot, grainy sand underneath his feet. Harry smiles automatically, sliding off his shoes and carrying them in his hand as he walked toward the coast. He hadn’t brought a bathing suit, but he didn’t really feel like swimming anyway. He sort of just wanted to sit and  _ ponder _ for a while. 

Sometimes he did that when he was feeling overwhelmed or anxious. Most of the time he thoroughly enjoyed being surrounded by friends and other people, but occasionally he needed his alone time, like right now. And Harry  _ loves  _ sunsets. 

He also loves his friends, but it just gets difficult having to be around someone that so obviously dislikes him. He feels like he has to make a conscious effort every time Louis’ around to try and be someone else, someone funnier, smarter, and more witty than Louis, and he doesn’t like that. He’s much more comfortable when he can just hang out with Niall and Liam, although even Niall seems a bit distant at times. 

Digging through his pocket as he squats down onto the sand, Harry dials his mother’s phone number. 

“Hello?” 

He smiles wide. 

“Hi, mum.”

The feeling he gets when she picks up the phone is unlike anything else. It’s like coming home, even if he’s a thousand miles away. No matter what gossip or rumour about him he’d heard that week, this was a person that knew the real him. 

“Harry! How’s Los Angeles? Is it beautiful like you imagined?”

Harry laughs, then pauses, “Yeah. Well, sort of. The scenery is great, I’m looking at the ocean right now. The people are a bit  _ odd _ , though, I think.” 

Harry glances sideways at a man farther down on the beach, dancing exotically for two very frightened looking women, and shrugs. She laughs. 

“I bet. Everybody 's trying to get someone’s attention,” she agrees. 

Frowning, Harry thinks back to Louis, staying silent for a moment as he watches sand fall through the cracks in between his fingers. 

“Speaking of,” his mother pauses, “how’s Louis?” 

She’d always been too good at knowing exactly what was bothering him. 

“Just the usual.”

“Being rude and ignoring you?” 

He exhales loudly into the phone. 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

He can hear his mother release a deep breath on the other side of the phone while he picks up another handful of warm sand. 

“Honey, you know you deserve better than that. I know you’ve liked him for, what, three years now? But he hasn’t done one thing to prove that he’s deserving of you, darling.” 

“Four years,” he corrects, “Okay, yeah, but I just feel like we’re in the same-”

“You’re in the same boat, he was misjudged just like you, I know. And he may be a great guy. But being judged doesn’t give him the right to treat you so bad for all of these years. I just hate to see you feeling so down all the time because of him when you could do so much better.”

There’s silence for a few moments as Harry mulls over what she’s saying, and then he promptly decides he no longer wants to talk about Louis. 

“Maybe I’ll just take Gem up on her offer to beat him up.” 

They laugh and move on to lighter subjects, and Harry tells her all about the book he’d started reading and which stops he’s most excited for on the trip. When his stomach starts rumbling, he excuses himself to go get some dinner. 

“Okay, love. I’ll talk to you later,” she makes a kissy noise, “I love you.” 

“Love you, too, mum. Bye.” 

Harry wishes he could say he felt better like he usually does, but now he’s just more confused. He’s irritated with himself for being so infatuated with Louis for so many years when he so clearly doesn’t return his feelings. 

He knows, logically, that he could go out to a bar tonight, get drunk, go back to someone’s place and forget all about Louis, and then be back in his bed before the rest of his friends even knew he’d been gone. Casual sex had never been his thing, though. 

Harry much preferred his partners to be interested in  _ him _ before they were interested in any other part of him. He’d found a long time ago he likes it better that way, when there was a sense of meaning behind it and not just useless sex with someone he didn’t know the name of and wouldn’t remember in the morning. 

When it comes to sex with boys though, he isn’t actually sure what he likes. He’d watched videos and read forums about things he  _ thought _ he might like, but he’d never actually been with a man before. He figures it’s roughly the same as being with a girl, just with different parts. He’s not going to pretend like he hasn’t pictured Louis underneath him when he’s alone late at night, but that was something he actively makes an effort to ignore in the light of day. 

Before uni, Harry was so positive he was straight that he was convinced he’d go off to his studies, meet a nice girl, take her home to his mum and sister on holidays, and then marry her and start having kids, all before graduation. Then he saw Louis. 

Short, tan, beautiful Louis who was somehow everything Harry had ever wanted in a person. They’d been introduced when he started seeing one of Louis’ girlfriends, although he could swear he looked familiar even then, and he’d taken a liking to him right away. He realized a few days into knowing him that he didn’t want to take a girl home to meet his family. No, he wanted to take Louis. 

He was much more optimistic back then, much like he had been today walking into their hotel. He hopes it won’t shrivel up this time as quickly as it had back then. 

After knowing Louis for a good six months or so, Harry began feeling dejected. He’d tried everything he knew to do to get closer to him, including dating one of the most awful people he’d ever met just so he had a chance at being in his space. Despite his best efforts, Louis seemed to try anything to avoid him, making awkward excuses when he caught him alone and ditching them when they all went out as a group. 

Even then, Harry'd wondered what was wrong with Louis. He realizes now that may be a question he can never fully answer. There was just so much to unpack with Louis, and as pathetic as it sounds, he’d wanted for many years to spend all of his time unpacking him. 

He’d stopped seeing Louis for a while after Louis’ friend group split up, and Harry broke up with his girlfriend, Beck, shortly after. That had been for very different, messy reasons, but mostly the fact that if she and Louis were fighting he wouldn’t have a chance to see him anymore. 

Harry picks up his shoes and stands, pulling his phone back out to check the map as he reminisces. 

His first year of uni was hectic, and he hated a lot of it, but seeing Louis made it infinitely better. As he adjusted to life away from his mum and sister, he’d thought Louis would be the only one who truly understood him. Not that he’d given himself much of a chance to. He spent the next six months pouting about his unrequited crush. 

When he befriended Liam in his second year, life began looking up again. He’d partied all summer and had come back to school with a terrible reputation unbeknownst to him, and Liam was the only one who seemed to not care about any of that. When he was invited to hang out with Niall, too, he was ecstatic to hear that Louis was close with both of them as well. 

The crush picked back up where it left off, and never really stopped if he’s being honest. Even today, the feelings he had for him in the past are still there, hiding, waiting for the few moments when Louis seems to have his guard down, but Harry’s getting restless. His sister tells him he’s too naive. After years of being kind to everyone, including people who made up nasty rumours and gossip about him, his patience is wearing very thin. 

He stops in front of a coffee shop off of the main road and steps inside to wait in the short line. 

“Hi,” the man behind the bar chirps enthusiastically, “what can I get for you?”

Harry looks over the menu and grabs his bottom lip in thought. 

“Whatever’s good. Just surprise me.” 

The man smiles, nods, and turns around to work on his drink. Harry moves to sit at the end of the counter until his name is called. 

A few moments later, instead of calling his name, the barista brings him his drink personally. As he pulls out the cash to pay him, the man puts a hand on his wrist and winks. 

“It’s on the house.” 

Harry’s eyebrows rise in surprise, and he feels his cheeks grow hot as he hurriedly thanks him and exits the store. 

Once outside, Harry shakes his head. He’s used to getting this response from people where he lived for uni, but he always thought they must have heard about him and were expecting a quickie in the bathroom in exchange for free food or drinks. Here, though, no one would have heard any rumours. 

_ See! _ Harry thinks. He can get people if he wants to. He’s not unappealing, maybe he was just wasn’t Louis’ type. He smirks as he brings the cup up to take a sip, seeing the man’s phone number written on the side with a smiley face. He isn’t going to call, but it’s still a nice gesture. He’d only be here for two more days, anyway, and that wasn’t enough time to properly get to know someone the way he liked to. 

Harry walks back through the glass doors of his hotel and nods politely at the woman who checked them in earlier before making his way back up to their shared room. Checking his phone, he noticed he’d only been gone for three hours, so the guys would probably still be up when he walked in. 

Swiping the key card, Harry opens the door to the suite quietly just in case they’d decided to get to bed early. 

When he rounds the corner, though, Niall, Liam, and Louis stand frozen on each of the beds, pillows clutched in their hands, eyes snapping to Harry as he struggles not to laugh. 

“Pillow fight?” He asks. 

Niall cackles as his pillow hits the side of Harry’s face, and his coffee sits long forgotten on the counter by the door. 

——

The next morning, Harry groans when Liam slides open the blinds. 

“Rise and shine! Time to get moving, breakfast is only served until ten-thirty.” 

He hears Niall and Louis protest from the other bed as he drags himself out from under the covers to get dressed. 

They’d had a pillow fight last night, and then ordered nearly one of everything off of the room service menu before falling asleep between awful old movies on the television. Harry guesses it was about three o’clock before they’d all finally fallen asleep. 

Liam continues to usher them toward their suitcases and not very subtly encourages Niall to take a shower before heading downstairs. As Harry brushes his teeth, he hears Louis asking about their plans. He rolls his eyes.  _ Maybe he should have checked the list first _ . 

Before Louis closes the door fully behind them, Liam spins around. 

“Wait, I forgot the key!” 

“I’ll grab one, hold on.” Louis turns back and disappears inside the room again. 

While Niall complains loudly about his lack of food, Harry nods his head at Liam toward the end of the hallway. 

“You guys can go ahead and go down, if you want. I’ll wait for Louis.” 

Niall seems apprehensive suddenly, turning to Harry and shaking his head, but Liam quickly agrees and leads him to the lift before he can say anything else. Harry has lost sight of why he does this to himself. 

Shortly after, Louis returns, shutting the door and stopping in his tracks when he sees it’s only Harry standing there. 

“Where’s Liam and Niall?” 

Harry gives him a small smile, “They already went down. I told them we’d catch up.” 

Nodding slowly at him, Louis comes closer, walking next to Harry toward the lift. Pressing the button and standing back to wait, Harry smirks when Louis anxiously pulls on his shirt and toes the ugly, mauve colored carpet below them with his shoe. 

They step inside at the same time when it opens, the mirroring walls allowing Harry the chance to watch Louis struggle to look at anything  _ but _ him. 

As Harry opens his mouth to make the most of this, Louis cuts him off. 

“Are you going to call them?” 

“What?” Harry glances over at him, caught off guard and wondering what he’s talking about. Louis’ face is unreadable as he stays facing the doors. 

“The number on your coffee cup. Are you going to call them?” 

Harry tenses.  _ Of course  _ Louis would have noticed that. 

“Oh,” he pauses, “no, I don’t think so.”

Immediately, Louis looks relieved and unbelievably angry all at once. Harry simply watches. He’s got no idea what’s going on in Louis’ head. 

For a split second he’d thought maybe Louis was relieved that he wasn’t interested in the man’s number. Now, he isn’t sure what that look was at all. Louis certainly was not happy with him, that much he was sure of. 

As the doors slide open again in front of them, Louis walks out first, moving hastily toward the table Liam’s already seated at. 

And just like that, Harry thinks, his chance is gone. 

“You should hurry and make your plates,” Liam tells them as Harry approaches the table, “they’re about to close up and kick us out.” 

As he makes his way to the line, he keeps an eye on the back of Louis’ tattered vans as he rushes to catch up with Niall, as if he’d be saved from Harry’s company the sooner he reached him. 

Morning, in general, is Harry’s least favorite part of the day. Everyone acted so chipper so early and Harry had no idea how they did it. The only time he enjoyed was getting up to watch the sunrise occasionally, but that was because it was a time that was reserved for Harry and no one else, and he rarely ever did that - he preferred sunsets, anyway. That’s why he often has trouble sleeping in a room with other people, and why he’d avoided sleepovers at all costs when he was growing up. That’s why he was having trouble  _ now _ . He liked being with his friends, but he’d much rather have had his own room if he’d had the money for it. The whole thing throws his sleep schedule off dramatically, causing him to stay up very late and wake up later than he was used to. To be honest, he’s tired. And Louis’ attitude isn’t exactly helping. 

While Harry fills his tray up with food and travels the short distance back to the table, Louis makes himself comfortable in the seat where Harry had already laid his things down at. Clenching his jaw and shaking his head, Harry does his best to shake it off and sits down in the seat next to Niall instead. The cereal he’d scooped onto his plate moments ago was now soggy, and his toast was stale to begin with. He frowns and bites into it anyway. 

“So, you said that today is the walk of fame?” Niall asks, Liam nodding enthusiastically. 

“Yeah,” he begins, “we’ll walk down the boulevard, take some pictures, explore for a bit, then get a bite to eat and head back when it gets dark.” 

Louis chews slowly on a piece of bread to his right, and Harry tries not to tell him that they don’t have all day. The woman who worked the buffet had already started cleaning the tables next to them. Harry swallows the last of his toast quickly and stands up, wiping off his hands on the sides of his jeans and adjusting his bright blue shirt. 

“I’m just going to grab my camera and then we can get going.” 

He doesn’t stick around to hear what Louis has to say about that and hurries back up to their room to search through the bag he left his camera in. On his way back out the door, he grumbles angrily at the coffee cup and throws it into the bin. 

Yeah, he hates mornings. 

——

Seeing the tall palm trees and the busy city streets makes Harry nostalgic. He’s not exactly sure why, since he’d never been to Los Angeles or anywhere like it before, but in some ways it reminded him of his family trips to Disney when he was younger with Gemma, his mother, and Robin. He was actually glad he wasn’t alone right now. Sad Harry was not a fun Harry. 

“Look, it’s Julia Roberts!” 

All of their eyes immediately snap to Niall, who rubs his neck sheepishly when he realizes it sounded like he’d actually  _ seen _ Julia Roberts. 

“The star, I mean. Her star.” He clarifies, pointing. 

“How cruel, Niall,” Liam appears beside him, “you know how much Harry likes Julia Roberts.” 

The three of them laugh and Niall apologizes, but Louis’ no longer near them. 

“Where’s Lou?” 

Niall looks around frantically in several directions, calling out Louis’ name, before beginning to look in each of the shop windows around them. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Harry stops him, “he’s a big boy. He can’t have gone far, anyway.”

As if sensing Harry talking about him, Louis materializes behind him a moment later, smiling sarcastically as he saunters forward. 

“Yeah, I  _ am _ a big boy.” He shoulders past Harry as he moves to stand next to Niall, linking arms with him. “I just went to grab a quick drink.” 

There’s something very wrong with the way Louis’ eyeing him right now, but Harry can’t place his finger on it. He thinks back to what he said, maybe Louis was offended? Harry hadn’t meant it offensively. 

As Louis lifts his cup to his mouth to take a drink, Harry notices it. 

There, in bold, black letters, is the name and number of someone from the shop Louis’d just walked out of. 

His mouth drops open a bit, but Harry shuts it before anyone can see his reaction.  _ Seriously? _ What could he possibly be trying to prove to him? That he can also get another person’s phone number? Harry wants to roll his eyes, he couldn’t care less who Louis got attention from (actually, he cared quite a lot but that wasn't the point). 

Louis lowers the cup back down to his side when he’s sure Harry’s seen it and looks around, like he’s seeking something out. He tugs on Niall’s arm.

“Okay, are we done here? I think I’m ready to walk some more.”

His eyes still linger on Harry’s for longer than socially acceptable, but Harry seems unable to look away, meeting Louis’ challenging stare with a confused, albeit irritated, expression. 

“Sure, I’ve seen everyone I wanted to. Harry? Niall?” Liam glances up from his phone to address them. 

“Yeah,” Harry mutters, “yeah. I’m done here.” 

He’s the first to start walking off, feeling partly proud of himself and partly way too over dramatic and embarrassed at his double entendre. Hopefully he wasn’t too obvious. But if Louis wanted to play this  _ game _ then Harry would reciprocate. Kindly, still, but he wouldn’t just sit there and take it. He’d never been one to back down from a challenge, especially if Louis happened to be involved. 

He turns around to see if the others are following him, catching Louis throwing his drink away in the corner of his eye, even though he’d only taken two sips. Harry smirks. This would surely be easier than he thought if Louis was going to drop his guard every time Harry turned his head. He turns back around quickly so Louis would think he hadn’t been caught and keeps walking, letting Liam fall into step beside him, still typing away at his phone. 

“Having fun so far?” he asks Harry. 

Smiling, Harry nods, “Yeah, I am.” 

Liam returns his grin and continues on, leading them down the street and pointing out the tourist spots and famous attractions as they go. Since they don’t have money for tours, Liam’s appointed himself their guide over the month. 

Harry groans inside of his head at the realization.  _ A month _ . It’s only the fifth of September, and they have until the thirtieth before Harry would be a free man again. Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, he tries to think of the good things, like taking pictures and spending time with his friends, instead of imagining himself dying of irritation from being around Louis. 

Although, if he were home right now, Harry knew he probably wouldn’t be doing anything important. He would be relaxed and happy, sure, but most likely bored out of his mind after graduation. Watching television, catching up on his reading, maybe taking some pictures, but still bored. Harry finds himself in a lonely mood almost more often than not, but he tries actively to ignore that. He’d struggled with it for a few years now but he liked to think that he had it under control. 

The rest of their tour consists of Liam and Niall bickering and Harry and Louis trying to avoid all contact with each other. Harry knows he’s being petty, but he wants to prove to Louis that he’s better than his childish actions, no matter how much Harry just wants to tackle him and make Louis tell him what the hell he’d ever done to make Louis hate him so much. 

Later, when Niall and Louis take off into one of the stores, Liam catches Harry’s arm and pulls him over to a table down from where they’d gone. 

“So, what are the updates with Louis?” 

Harry tilts his head. 

“Updates?” 

Liam looks at him disapprovingly, as if he’s deliberately hiding something obvious from him. 

“Yes, Louis. You fancy him, so I -” 

“That was years ago, Li. I think I’m pretty much over that bit now, but thanks for checking in.” 

Harry does his best to seem convincing, his face coloring at Liam’s words. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Harry. I didn’t judge you for it then and I won’t now. If you say you really don't, then I’ll believe you, but I think there could be something there, yeah?” 

Feeling Liam pat him on the arm, Harry stays silent, wondering why he’d told Liam about his silly crush in the first place. As Harry watches him stand up from the table, he yells after him. 

“Thanks, Li.” 

\--

Waking up early the next morning for the farmer’s market hadn’t been as hard as Harry thought it would be. He was up before even Liam, showering, getting dressed, and then heading to the balcony to watch the sun rise. It was not his usual routine, but it made him feel peaceful and, dare he say, happy. 

While he waited for the others to wake up, Harry went downstairs and got everyone coffees, setting them next to their beds. He shakes Liam awake first after he hears his phone buzz with a text, telling him what time it is and reminding him of their plans as he scrambled to get dressed and reply to his notification. 

Next comes Niall, who takes several pillows to the head to effectively wake, groaning the entire time as he rolls out of the covers and onto the floor. Once he’s up, Harry makes him wake Louis since he simply doesn’t want to. 

He sits back as they get themselves ready, glancing out the window and squinting at the bright sunlight coming into the room. 

An hour and a half later they finally arrive at the market. Crowded and bustling with people, they decide to split up into pairs and look for good stops. 

With Niall following behind him, Harry struggles to think of what they could talk about. 

“Are you looking for anything specific, or…” Harry trails off. 

“Nah, just whatever looks good. Or smells good.” 

Harry chuckles, nodding along. Leave it to Niall to break up an awkward atmosphere with food. 

“What about you?” 

“I’m trying to pick up little souvenirs for my family but nothing too big.” 

At the mention of his mum and sister, Harry finds himself suddenly desperate to call them. He’d talked with his mother just two days ago, but he hadn’t called Gemma since the beginning of the trip. He’ll try to text her later and ask if she could talk for a bit tomorrow. 

“Chocolate covered apples, c’mon!” 

Niall pulls him through the crowd, stopping in front of a stand that holds a large selection of all different types of covered apples. After buying a chocolate and caramel, they set out to buy some items they can eat in the car in a few hours on the way to Vegas. 

Later, with arms full of bags of fruit, jams, cheeses, and other snacks, Harry texts Liam with his free hand to meet back up to check out of their hotel and get back on the road before they get stuck in traffic. 

“I’m glad we stopped here,” Harry tells Niall, “I think this is the best farmer’s market I’ve ever been to.”

“I don’t think I’ve even been to one before, but if they’re all like this…” Niall raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, biting a sandwich he’d pulled out of one of his bags. 

Not long after, Liam and Louis approach them with similar looking baggage. 

“Ready?” 

Liam reminds them that they’ll be passing the hollywood sign on the way out, if Harry wants to get his camera ready. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot!” Niall seems inexplicably happier as he loads his things back into the trunk of the car, taking all of his food with him to the front. Sighing as he realizes he missed his chance at the front seat, Harry settles into the middle row of seats once again, with Louis right behind him. 

He unlocks his phone and types out a text to Gemma. 

_ hey, are you available to talk for a bit tomorrow? prob in the afternoon.  _

A minute later, it buzzes beside him. 

_ Sure. Is everything okay? _

He types out several responses, but none of them seem quite right. Harry settles on a lie and presses send. 

_ yeah! just want to hear your voice :) _

They pass the hollywood sign right after Gemma responds with an emoji, and Harry stares at it as they pass. He thinks briefly about grabbing his camera and taking a picture, but decides against it. When they first arrived, he’d felt hopeful. Now, at the realization that nothing had happened, he just feels empty all over again. The whole thing had been sort of underwhelming. 

He pockets his phone and makes a move to pull his Kindle back out of his bag, readjusting his things to find it among his clothes. He wishes he would’ve packed a smaller bag for the more important things. 

While Niall and Liam chat about the scenery in the front seat, Louis taps his shoulder from the back. Harry turns his head, raising a brow at him. 

“Do you have a charger? I left mine in the bag in the back.” 

He’d been using it to charge his own phone, but he shrugs anyway. Harry says nothing and reaches down to pull his own charger out of the port and hand it back to Louis. 

“Thanks.” 

He nods and turns back to his phone while Louis plugs it in, hearing his voice quietly return a few minutes later. 

“Do you remember, in San Francisco after we saw the bridge, when you said you finally felt like you had a sense of control?” 

Harry nods, confused, and waits for what else Louis’ going to say. When he doesn’t hear anything, he turns in his seat to give him a questioning glance. 

Louis only smiles at him, turns over in his pillows, and says nothing. 

——

“ _ Viva, Las Vegas! _ ” 

Niall’s been singing that same line over and over again for the last ten minutes, and Harry thinks he’s about to hit him. 

The room in Vegas is much nicer than the one they had in L.A., and much cheaper, too. Harry’s not as concerned about what the bed sheets may have on them and he doesn’t feel like showering immediately after walking in. The windows look out over the landscape, tall mountains standing proudly in the distance and the city buzzing with lights below it. It doesn’t have a balcony, but Harry thinks he could watch the sunset just as easily from inside. 

“Niall, if you don’t shut up, I'm going to stick my foot inside of your mouth.” 

Louis’ head pops up from around the corner where he was getting a glass of water, and for once Harry agrees with him. Niall immediately quietens down, sticking his tongue out at Louis who flips him off. Liam rolls his eyes at them fondly and Harry rolls his in annoyance. 

“Okay,” Liam begins, “We've got four whole days here, so tonight is whatever we want. Tomorrow, we’ll go down to the strip, then hit the casino the next day, and then see Red Rock Canyon before we head to Albuquerque. Sound good?” 

Nodding at Liam, Harry walks over to their small kitchen area and gets out the ingredients to make tea. Soon enough, he hears footfalls coming closer, and then Louis’ jumping up onto the counter beside him, crossing his ankles. 

“Making tea?”

Harry nods. 

“Can I have some?” 

He looks up at Louis suspiciously, but is only met with a small smile. 

“Uhm, yeah. Sure.” 

He tries to hurry as he makes Louis tea the way he likes, but it still takes a few minutes. Harry busies himself with looking through the fridge for food until it’s ready so he’s not forced to make stilted conversation. Louis just sits there, swinging his legs back and forth and playing with his thumbs in his lap. 

Situations like this bother him. He knows Louis likes psychology, has probably always been good at it. He seems to crack a bit when it comes to himself, but with everyone else Harry can tell he knows his stuff. There’s this weird atmosphere when Louis does his thing, like he’s analyzing something about Harry - it makes him self conscious. 

As soon as the timer sounds, he hands the steaming cup to Louis. He nods at Harry, still smiling, and hops off of the counter. 

“Thanks,” he says. 

Harry shakes it off and goes to make his own cup. He’s far too tired to try and pick apart Louis’ mind games at the moment. The chair next to the window looked soft and comfortable when he came in earlier, so Harry takes his mug and sits down there with a blanket. 

He sips slowly. The other three laugh obnoxiously about a video Niall’s showing them on his phone, but Harry stays still and pulls the blanket tighter around himself, trying to make out shapes in the stars outside of the window. 

——

By the time they’d reached Vegas, it was almost midnight. Harry was exhausted. But now, as he laid on the comfy sheets and fluffy hotel pillow, he couldn’t fall asleep. 

He can hear Niall and Louis’ movie from their laptop on the bed opposite his, and he wishes he could throw his pillow at it to make it shut off. They giggle every now and then, whispering and moving about while he struggles to keep his eyes closed. He considers getting up to grab his headphones, but his bag seems too far away right now and he’s too lazy to get up. He huffs and turns onto his side. 

Liam had stayed on his phone for a good hour or so, typing away every few minutes, but plugged it in and laid down to go to sleep about twenty minutes ago. Harry feels the bed shift. 

“Can’t sleep either?” 

Liam’s rolled onto his back, turning his head to face Harry. Vaguely, in the light coming from the computer, Harry can make out Liam’s tired eyes and slight smile. 

Harry rubs his cheek against the pillowcase, “Yeah.”

“Are you just as annoyed by that movie as I am?” 

He breathes out a laugh. 

“Yeah.” 

Sitting up suddenly and flipping on the lamp, Liam faces the other boys seriously. 

“Hey, we’re trying to sleep and that’s probably the most obnoxious movie I’ve ever heard in my entire life.” 

For a quiet moment, Harry thinks Liam’s truly offended them, but then they start laughing. And then Liam is laughing, and then Harry starts laughing, too. He must be delirious, he figures, because he has no idea why this is so funny to him. 

They wheeze until there are tears falling down their cheeks, shutting the lid on Niall’s laptop and tossing it on the ground. Harry hears them chuckle a few more times as they catch their breath, him and Liam doing the same. 

Right as they’ve all calmed down and Harry’s finally closing his eyes for the night, he hears Louis’ voice speak up over the loud hum of the air conditioner. 

“I’m really glad we went on this trip.” 

Harry falls asleep. 

——

When he opens his eyes only a handful of hours later, he’s facing the window with his back toward the other bed. From the sound of the door closing, he assumes someone’s just left. He goes to stretch, but hears Niall whispering and decides to stay completely still instead. From just a few feet away, Harry has no trouble making out his voice. 

“So you’re telling me  _ nothing’s _ changed? Not any of it?” 

He can hear Louis sigh, telling Niall to  _ shh _ as he begins to whisper harshly. 

“I didn’t say  _ nothing _ changed. But I’m not expecting to feel some sort of big epiphany or anything like you think. I’m just,” he pauses for a moment, “exploring. Seeing how things go.” 

He doesn’t hear anything, but he thinks Niall nods. A few seconds later, he starts in again. 

“I just feel like you don’t really know what you’re missing, is all. He’s a really great guy. And you know how bad I am at lying.” 

“Did you tell him?” 

Louis’ voice sounds more like a hiss than anything and Harry tenses on the bed, scared of Louis even when he doesn’t know he’s awake. 

“Of course not, Lou! I wouldn’t. Just want you to try it out, ‘s all. I think you guys probably have more in common than you think.” 

“Maybe, yeah,” Louis huffs like he’s annoyed, “I don’t know.” 

He hears Niall shift to the edge of their bed. 

“Your way of exploring isn’t how normal people explore so, just don’t scare him off, yeah?” 

Harry listens as Louis slaps his shoulder, walking barefoot over to the kitchen area. As Niall follows him over, Louis adds one last thing. 

“Yeah, well I’d appreciate it if we didn’t talk about it while he’s asleep literally four feet away from us, you dolt.”

So they  _ were _ talking about him.  _ Interesting _ . 

“Just promise me you’ll at least try?” 

“Yes, Niall, I will. Can you leave me alone now?” 

Liam walks back through the door, making a ruckus and giving Harry the perfect opportunity to pretend like he’d just woken up. As soon as Niall shushes him when he drops a cup on the ground, Harry yawns loudly and rolls over to face the others, his head laying in his hand. 

“Aww, Liam. You brought me breakfast in bed,” he smiles sarcastically at Liam’s glare, “how sweet of you.” 

Thankfully, his joke eases the tension on Louis’ face and he turns back to the food. Harry turns to Liam as he hands him a plate and acts completely normal, but in his head he’s panicking. 

They’d been talking about him, that much he was sure of, but why? What was the big secret that Niall wasn’t supposed to tell him? Maybe this had something to do with Louis asking him for tea last night. 

Biting into his apple frustratingly, Harry sagged. He’d been so close to finally getting to the bottom of this, if only Louis weren’t smart enough to realize he may not actually have been asleep. 

Niall calls for Liam across the room. 

“When do we leave for the strip? Do I have time to go down to the gift shop?”

“Yeah, we don’t leave until this afternoon. That sounds fun, I think I’ll go with you.” Liam says. 

Niall spins excitedly, clapping his hands. 

“Sweet! Louis, Harry, you guys coming?” 

Harry hesitates when Louis says yes, figuring it would be best if he gave him some space before being forced together again tonight. He seems to do better that way. 

“No, I think I’ll stay here and call Gem. Catch up for a bit.”

Liam smiles at him and nods, “Okay, that’s where we’ll be if you decide to come down.” 

As they file out of the door, Harry waits until he hears the lock click shut before he gets up to change clothes and call Gemma. 

When he gets done in the bathroom, the sun is at just the right spot to cast a glow over the carpet, and he smiles as he pulls up a chair to sit in it while he dials. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Gem.” 

He smiles and pulls his legs up underneath him, excited to speak to his sister. 

“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in like three whole days,” she laughs. 

“I know, I know. I’ve been a tad busy, I guess.” 

Harry can hear her scoff on the other end of the phone. 

“Last I checked you were going on a cross country vacation with your friends. That does  _ not _ count as busy, by the way.” She chuckles, “Mum said you were having a good time?”

“Yeah, I am. Mostly. We’re in Las Vegas now, and it’s super nice here. Good hotels, pretty scenery. I really like it.” 

“Good, that’s good. I don’t hear any of the guys in the background.” 

“No, they went downstairs to the gift shop. I told them I was going to stay up here and talk to you.” 

Harry chews on his fingernail as he updates Gemma on all of the latest happenings, reaching over to pull the throw blanket off of the bed and wrapping it around himself. 

Gemma tells him about her work and her current boyfriend, talking all about her new flat and life. It makes Harry excited for her, knowing that she’s doing so well. After he moves back home, he’ll be able to see all of it in person. 

Harry brightens as he remembers he has more gossip. 

“Oh, yeah! You wouldn’t believe what I heard this morning. When I woke up I could hear Louis talking, so I pretended to be asleep still and -” 

He’s cut off abruptly by Gemma’s drawn out sigh. He pauses, offended. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, Haz. I just wish that we could have a conversation for once without talking about Louis.” 

“I didn’t mean to make it all about him, I just, we’ve been on the trip together and I, I thought you liked hearing updates?” 

“I do, I did, but it’s not a new thing, Harry,” she sighs. “You find something to say about him even if you haven’t seen him in weeks. It’s always something he said that was funny, or that confused you, or whatever.” 

Harry brings his knees up to his chest self consciously and swallows as Gemma speaks again. 

“I don’t mean to offend you, but I want to hear about  _ you _ .”

He mumbles his response, taken aback at her attitude. 

“Why haven’t you said any of this before?” 

“Well, because I could tell he made you happy. Most of the time, at least. But now, it just seems,” Harry can hear her hold her breath before she speaks again, “ redundant. Like it’s the same story every time.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Gemma huffs out a laugh. 

“Harry,” she says tentatively, “I just hate that you’re so hung up on him. You know, Haz, you know he doesn’t like you, right?” 

At the sound of the door opening, Harry tenses. 

“I’ve got to go, Gem. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait, Harry-” 

The line goes dead as the others make their way into the room with bags full of souvenirs, and Harry drops his cell into his lap and looks out the window. 

After this trip, he’s supposed to move back home to a flat that he’d picked out on his last trip home. It was perfect for him. Harry could imagine himself getting up to make tea or coffee in the morning, his feet on the sleek, hardwood floor, and then sitting down with a book in front of the giant windows in the living room. It’s right around the corner from where Gemma lives and only a short drive from his mum’s, but lately Harry’s been wondering if maybe he needed some more independence instead of working backward. 

Behind him, he vaguely hears Louis mention something to Liam about going down the street and the door opens and shuts again before Niall approaches him. 

“You okay, mate?” 

Harry doesn’t turn to look at him but nods, and Niall pushes a bag toward him. 

“What’s this?” 

“You said yesterday that you were looking for small things for your mum and sister, so I said we should all look for you since you stayed up here. Louis picked this out for you,” Niall laughs, “I’m not sure why. He said it reminded him of you.” 

Niall leaves him alone to open it, going for a shower while Liam steps out to take a phone call in the hallway. He pulls a smaller bag out of the plastic one, with the gift shop’s logo on the front. Inside of it is a keychain. 

An awful, unattractive little dangly keychain branded with the classic Vegas welcome sign,  _ Welcome to the fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada _ . It’s covered in a harsh, slightly abrasive red and yellow plastic. Upon further inspection, he realizes it lights up, too. 

Harry  _ loves _ it. 

He isn’t entirely sure whether or not to take it as an insult, as if he would only be deserving of something cheap and stereotypical, but his mouth turns up anyway. He knows that yesterday Louis had started this little game, but Harry thinks it’s a bit too far to get something meant to be rude for his family. 

“Do you like it?” 

Liam walks back into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and smiling at him, seeming suspiciously happier than when he’d walked out. 

“Yeah. It’s not sarcastic, is it?” 

Liam bristles and shakes his head. 

“No, he picked it out because he thought you’d like it. He doesn’t know your mum or sister but he figured that you guys would have similar taste.” He leans in closer to Harry, “Plus, he left the room while Niall gave it to you just to avoid confrontation. If that doesn’t tell you something, I don’t know what does.” 

Opening his mouth, Harry starts to ask Liam about what he’d heard this morning, but closes it when he hears the shower shut off. 

“So, should I thank him, or…?” 

“No, I wouldn’t. Maybe just be extra nice to him for the day. Louis tends to operate better on actions than words.” 

Harry purses his lips and sits back in his chair. He’d have to keep that in mind the rest of the trip. He’d already tried  _ saying _ every nice thing to Louis, maybe he’d just have to show him. Without giving it much thought, he opens his phone and types in  _ Louis _ under  _ New Playlist _ . 

——

“The strip is big, so we should decide where we want to go beforehand. That way we can hit the stops we want before we get tired.”

Liam looks for parking while they pull out their phones, talking about which clubs they want to stop at before others. Harry says nothing. He’d been really excited about seeing the strip, but his mood had been soured earlier that day. 

After he hung up with Gemma and opened Louis’ gift, he’d tried to call his mum but she’d declined, texting him that she’d be working all day and would call him when she could. All things considered, even though he appreciated Louis’ thoughtfulness, it was just not a good day. 

Harry’s already feeling a bit woozy, and he didn’t feel like drinking at all right now. He hoped the others wouldn’t notice if he just ordered water. 

“Can you get a spot here, Li? I heard they have the best appetizers  _ ever _ .” 

Liam does his best to maneuver their oversized van into the small parking space and Harry looks around to make sure that he has everything he needs while they’re out. He feels Louis climb over the seat next to him, plopping himself down into it and glancing up at Harry. He nods once and then clears his throat and looks away, but Harry will take it. 

He almost says something about the keychain, but remembers Liam’s earlier words and does his best to smile genuinely when Louis looks back at him before they climb out. 

The club Niall picked is dark as soon as they set foot in it, but it seems to be on the fancier side. Harry wonders if Niall anticipates the price of the food he was so excited to try, but ultimately keeps quiet and stares at the back of Louis’ feet as they’re led to a table in the dining area of the place. 

The four of them slide into the circular booth with Harry and Liam on the outside, Louis and Niall between them. He can practically feel Louis’ nervous energy radiating next to him, but Harry’s unsure of how to ease his tension. He’d probably only make it worse, anyway. 

_ You know he doesn’t like you, right _ ? 

He’d been hearing Gemma’s words in his brain all day. Harry knows she’s right, but he doesn’t need to hear that. She was supposed to support him, not remind him of his failures. He’d spent countless hours on the phone and at her house through her new relationships and painful breakups, and anytime Harry offered her advice she promptly told him to  _ fuck off _ . She would remind him that it was her life and she’d do what she liked, she just needed someone to listen to her. 

When he needed that though, apparently it was too much to ask. He knows rationally that maybe she was just having a bad day or she’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed, but she had no right to talk to him like that. She hadn’t even called him back to apologize. 

When the waitress comes to take their drink orders, Niall orders two appetizers and three separate types of drinks to sample. He simply shrugs when they all glance up at him. Louis orders water next to him, and Harry asks the waitress for the same. Louis’ stare makes him self conscious as he shifts in his seat, but Harry refuses to meet his gaze. He’s allowed to order a water if he wants to, even if Louis wants to act shocked. 

“You have to at least try some, I can’t eat it all by myself!”

“Yes you can, Ni,” Liam pats his shoulder, “you can.” 

“Hey, on the menu it says it serves five people. I’m offended.” 

Harry tries to laugh at them, but nothing comes out. If anything, he frowns. He wants to be having fun, and he’s angry that his sister took that away from him. Trying to take a calming breath, Harry shuts his eyes and exhaled as the waitress brought their drinks. 

Him and Louis sip on their water while Liam and Niall dig into the food, offering some to them. 

“Ew, no. I hate fish.” Louis shudders. 

“Yeah, I’m good, mate. I’m not that hungry.” 

Three refills of water later, Liam pushes away his plate but Niall’s still taking large bites out of his salmon rolls. Harry, Liam, and Louis share a look. 

Liam clears his throat, “Hey, maybe we should head out.” 

Niall glances up at him, half of a roll hanging out of his mouth, affronted, shaking his head. 

“I’m not done eating, Liam.” 

“I can see that, Niall. But we were planning on hitting some other stops before we go home. We’ve been here for an hour already.”

Niall rolls his eyes, taking a sip of one of his drinks. 

“Okay, let me finish this one and then we’ll go.” 

The check comes a minute later, and Niall’s eyes widen slightly before he yells  _ it’s vegas, baby _ , and hands his card over to the waitress, swallowing the last of his salmon and belching. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun, buddy.” Liam grimaces. 

They file back out of the booth, walking outside. 

“Where to next?” 

Harry looks around as Liam answers Louis, watching the sun go almost completely down behind them. 

“There was only one other place I saw that I wanted to stop at. We can go there and then see what we feel like after?” 

The sound of their shoes clicking on the concrete distracts him while they walk, Niall tripping slightly every few minutes. He leans on Liam as they come up on the next club, and Harry hopes they don’t get kicked out for whatever Niall’s planning to do here. 

The light from Liam’s phone illuminates the dark entrance to the club as they approach. Thinking back to what Liam told him, he reaches for the door handle and holds it open as Liam ushers Niall inside, waiting for Louis before he goes in himself. 

Even though it was dark, Harry could swear he saw red on Louis’ cheeks. 

Not as fancy as the last place, the entryway opens right up into the dancefloor, and Niall rags Liam straight across to the bar. Harry rolls his lips together, shifting on his feet. 

“Should we follow them?” 

Louis opens his mouth to answer, but his phone lights up in his hand. He frowns, looking down at it. 

“Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” 

He walks off, leaving Harry standing alone in a darkened corner of the floor. He leans his head back against the cool, steel wall and shuts his eyes. 

A few years ago Harry would’ve taken the pounding bass and alcohol in stride and let loose. He would be out there, dancing with people he barely knew and throwing back drinks that had been bought for him as invitations for sex. If he was being honest, he still did that sometimes. 

Tonight though, Harry wished he would have stayed at the hotel. He could’ve kicked back with a movie, ordered room service, and stayed in his pyjamas. Maybe he was just getting older, but partying hardly seemed appealing to him anymore. 

He kicks off of the wall and heads toward the bar to order another water, finding Liam watching Niall as he danced drunkenly a few feet away from him. 

He points toward him, “He okay?” 

“I think so,” Liam yells over the music, “just very drunk.” 

Harry nods and grabs his drink, pulling up a seat next to Liam and sitting silently as they watch the people dancing around them. 

“Don’t you want to dance?”

Liam hesitates, “It’s fine. I’d rather make sure Ni stays out of trouble. You know how he gets.”

“Go, Liam. You’re the one that suggested coming here in the first place. I’ll watch him.” 

Liam bites his lip, looking out at the crowd. 

“ _ Go _ , I’ve got it.” 

Harry shakes his head when Liam thanks him, abandoning his seat to disappear into the group of people. He feels like he should offer since Liam never gets a chance to relax, always too self disciplined to let go for even just a few hours. Dancing was never Harry’s thing, anyway. He still did it, but he knew he was no good. 

Other than a few stumbles and confusion when switching dance partners, Niall seems to be doing fairly well. Harry’s impressed. He’d not only downed three large drinks before they’d come here, but also an entire platter and a half of fish, and then more drinks at this bar. Harry’s surprised he’s still standing. 

He sips his water and waits for his friends to get tired. He can’t ruin this for them, but he secretly hopes they’ll get to leave sooner rather than later. 

Louis returns shortly after, shaky and agitated. Harry stares up at him, but he doesn’t look back. Just sits two seats down and crosses his ankles, swinging them back and forth. Harry reaches across and offers him his half full glass of water, surprised when Louis takes it from him and downs the rest of it in one gulp. When he’s done, Louis wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve and hands the glass back to Harry. 

“Was it hard for you,” Louis swallows, turning so Harry can hear him better, “when your stepfather passed away?” 

The question has Harry jerking backward to run his eyes over Louis’ face, curious and concerned and slightly offended all at once. It seems much too personal, but Louis seems to need the comfort, so he swallows and goes back to watching the people dancing when he opens his mouth again. 

“Yes. It took me a very long time to get over it.” 

“I always wondered about that. Like, we’re the only ones who’ve lost parents.” 

Harry glares at the ground in front of him, “Yeah?” 

“Like, we both know what it feels like to lose someone like that,” Louis explains, “Liam and Niall don’t.” 

Upon seeing his furrowed brows, Louis continues. 

“It’s just something I noticed we have in common, ‘s all.” 

When Harry turns to ask Louis if he’s okay, someone starts shouting on the dancefloor before he can get the words out. 

“Seriously? That’s fuckin’ gross, man.” 

They both jump up at the sound of someone vomiting, rushing between the people to get to Niall. 

“Shit,” Harry hisses. 

Calmer than he should be in this situation, Louis just whispers something to Niall and helps him to his feet, apologizing to the man and glancing back at Harry. 

“Find Liam, yeah? I’ll get him cleaned up and then meet you guys at the car.”

With that, Harry frantically searches for Liam, pushing through couples and squinting under the moving lights. 

“Liam!” 

At the sound of his voice, Liam turns, Harry waving at him over everyone’s heads and pointing toward the door. 

“What happened? Where’s Niall?” 

They push out of the exit together and into the cold night air, pulling on their jackets and hustling toward the direction of their car. 

“He was sick all over the floor. Louis got him up though, and they’re meeting us at the car.” 

“Shit, sorry.” 

“‘S not your fault. I’m glad you got to have a little time to yourself beforehand.” 

Louis and Niall arrive at the car a few minutes later, Niall’s feet dragging behind him as Louis does his best to support his weight on his own. Jumping out to help them, Harry and Liam adjust Niall in the front seat with a trash bag and then buckle in themselves. While he starts the car, Liam angles the rearview mirror to look at Louis. 

“Thanks, Louis.” 

“No problem.” 

From the way they speak, Harry figures this isn’t an unusual event. Louis had known exactly what to do and had somehow managed to get him cleaned up and on his feet within the last ten minutes, which Harry had been certain wasn’t possible. He wondered how many other times Louis had to take care of people when he obviously had so many other things to worry about. He also wondered about all of the times this had happened before where he hadn’t been invited, but he decided not to focus on that right now. 

If Harry couldn’t have Louis as anything more, he hoped he would at least get to have him as a friend one day. They both needed more of those. 

No one speaks again on the way back to the hotel, but he can hear Liam holding his breath, probably hoping that Niall won’t throw up on the rental car. Louis hadn’t bothered climbing into the far back, and sits on the seat over from Harry’s. His jacket rests on the leather between them, and if Harry stays still enough, he can just barely smell the body wash Louis’d used before they left lingering on the material. His hand itches to reach out and touch it, but he laces his fingers together in his lap and looks out the side of the car instead, watching the headlights of the passing cars as they speed by. 

——

As soon as Niall’s tucked into bed, they all breathe a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been sick again, not yet, and for now he seemed peaceful. He’s convinced Louis’ got superpowers. Harry thinks about going to bed, but he isn’t tired now. 

He whispers to Liam, grabbing his wallet and heading back towards the door. 

“I’m going out for a bit. I’ll be back soon.” 

It’s not something that he does often anymore, but tonight Harry feels like he deserves a drink. His conversation with Gemma left him feeling  _ off _ in a way that wasn’t normal. It twinged all of his happiness in the day with an uncomfortable melancholy. Having been a social drinker since he turned eighteen, Harry struggled to drink alone. It made him feel, well,  _ alone _ . As if he had nothing better to do and no friends to share his sorrows with. 

Harry tries to pace himself on his walk to the bar down the street. Does he really even want a drink? He can’t even remember the last time he’d had one, but it couldn’t have been too long ago. 

He’d tried to stop drinking after he realized Louis had all those years ago, back when he was trying to impress him, but when Harry was around friends he always eventually gave in. Something about the buzz it gave him intensified his emotions, and usually made him feel even better than he already was. Tonight, he was worried it would have just the same effect - increase his sadness tenfold. 

As he wrestled with his options, he swings open the door to the place and looks around, making sure he won’t be bothered. Harry’s used to people coming up and flirting with him, but Louis had ruined even that, too, since the coffee-phone-number incident. 

Releasing a frustrated sigh and running a nervous hand through his uncombed hair, he heads toward an open seat at the bar and prays, for once, that he can go the whole night unnoticed and alone. 

“I’ll be with you in just a second.” 

Harry nods politely at the man behind the bar and slides his jacket off, laying it across his lap as he waits to place his order. His phone is on fifteen percent as he takes it out to check his notifications, but he comes up with nothing and places it back into his pocket when he’s approached again. 

He stutters trying to order, in the mood to pass out on tequila shots, but refrains and orders a beer instead. Liam would be proud, he thinks. Niall, not so much. 

As he drinks, Harry can feel himself relax slightly, but it doesn’t seem to be enough. His body is more loose, but his mind is still whirring with thoughts, hyper and unfocused as the liquid makes its way down. Setting the glass back down on the bar with a frustrated huff, Harry brings a hand to his forehead to massage his temples. 

“Can I get a water, please?” 

Harry can feel him down the bar before he can actually see him, but is equally as shocked when he actually looks up a few moments later and sees him. 

_ Louis _ . 

Because why wouldn’t Louis show up, here, now? The one time that Harry actually  _ doesn’t _ want to see him. Maybe, if he stays completely still, Louis won’t notice him. He could wait until someone sits between them and then slip out, and Louis would never have known he was here. 

Surely it couldn’t be that easy. 

“Harry?” 

Louis’ mouth is hanging open when Harry turns, his face a mixture of confused and irritated.  _ Whatever _ , Harry thinks, agitated,  _ I was here first. _

He smiles tightly back at him and then looks away, hoping Louis will take the hint and leave him alone to avoid any awkward conversation that absolutely does not need to take place tonight. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Harry closes his eyes. 

“Having a drink. You?” 

“Yeah, same here.” 

Louis can literally get some water anywhere, but Harry doesn’t waste any time pointing that out to him. There’s a lull as the bartender brings out Louis’ drink, and Harry watches him tap his fingers against the bar. 

Louis smiles back at him in what Harry hopes is a goodbye, but he only moves a seat closer and sits down, slowly stirring the ice around in his drink with his straw. Harry frowns. 

Louis never wanted to be  _ closer _ to him. Maybe Liam had finally let it slip about Harry’s schoolboy crush a few days ago when they were alone and now Louis’ taking pity on him. Either way, he’s going to let Louis steer their conversation. 

“Do you think anyone’s missing us back home?”

At this, Harry furrows his brows and catches Louis’ eyes, trying to decipher what exactly he’s asking. Louis just stares back at him, hesitant, eyes slightly glossy even though he hadn’t taken a sip of his drink yet. Harry takes a moment to think before answering, opening and closing his mouth several times. 

“I think so, yeah,” he sees Louis look back down at his lap, “why do you ask?” 

Harry isn’t sure if that’s something he’s allowed to inquire or not, but he feels like it's justified since it was borderline personal of him to ask in the first place. Louis has so many siblings that Harry’s heard him talk avidly about, surely he knows they all miss him. 

He shrugs, continuing to stir his drink and avoiding eye contact with Harry. When he speaks again, it’s quiet, and Harry leans in so he can hear him better over the noise. 

“Sometimes I just feel like,” Louis pauses thoughtfully, looking up at the ceiling, “like, we do the best we can and no one ever seems to think it’s enough. Like even if we do everything that we’re supposed to, people are still going to point out the one thing you did wrong.” 

Squinting his eyes, Harry tilts his head and sticks out his bottom lip.  _ This _ is the Louis he’s always wanted to have a conversation with. Harry tries not to get up and start dancing. Gemma’s words flash inside of his brain, but he puts his chin in his open palm nonetheless, leaning even closer to Louis in his interest. He nods, waiting for him to continue. 

“I don’t know, it’s stupid.” 

Shaking his head, Harry straightens up. 

“No, no! It isn’t stupid. I get it, I feel that way sometimes, too. What made you feel like that?” 

Louis eyes him hesitantly, as if judging how trustworthy he is. Harry’s fully aware that he’s testing the limits of Louis’ social barriers, his  _ Harry _ barriers, but this is too good to be true and he would hate himself if he didn’t take advantage of it while he could. Tomorrow, regular Louis would be back and would most likely pretend this had never happened, but for tonight Harry planned to make the most of this new vulnerability. Louis waves a hand in the air. 

“I try to call home, a lot. But sometimes I forget, or I’m doing something else and then I feel guilty for not calling. But then when I do, they don’t want to hear about me. They only want to hear about how much money I’m making or when I can come home and get a proper job.” 

After he pauses for a few more moments, Harry clears his throat, deciding to try and offer some of his own stories to make Louis feel more comfortable. 

“Yeah, I feel that way, too, sometimes. Maybe not in the exact same way. But I live so far from my mum and sister that I never get to really see them, and sometimes if there’s just too much going on in each of our lives that we don’t know about, things just get rushed. We forget to take the time to listen and we start fighting and we lose that closeness.” 

“Exactly!” Louis’ chair turns even more toward his own, and Harry glances down at where their knees had touched, feeling like he’d been burned even through two layers of clothing. 

If he’s being honest, Harry has no idea what he’s just said, or if any of it made sense. But Louis seems to think he’s a genius, so he must’ve said something right. 

They talk for a while, Louis reminiscing on old family memories and Harry adding in when he could. Harry tries desperately to remember this scene in his mind, Louis laughing as he listens to one of Harry’s stories. 

Their drinks long forgotten in front of them, Harry feels much more at ease than when he’d first come in and sat down. He just loves being around people in general, but he has to admit that being around Louis is much more stimulating than his regular choices in company. He wonders what Gemma would say if she could see him now. 

The more Louis reveals about himself, the further the stories delve into their past, and Harry finds himself tensing as Louis brings up their first years at uni. 

“I’m so glad I dumped them. They were all so rude to me, anyway. I don’t even know why I was friends with them in the first place, if I’m being honest.” 

Harry chuckles, “Yeah, I don’t know either.”

Louis leans his head back and squints. 

“But you dated Beck for like, a few months, right?” 

His face sours at the mention of his old friend’s name, but he returns to normal shortly after, turning to face Harry. 

“Yeah. I did.”

Coughing and taking a sip of his watered down beer, he hopes Louis will take the hint and change the subject back to a comfortable area. 

“And then you…did your thing.” 

_ His thing _ ? 

“My  _ thing _ ?” 

Louis looks caught off guard for a moment, but then regains his confidence just as quickly. 

“Yeah,  _ your thing _ . Where you, you know, sleep with people and then just,” Louis makes a  _ ‘poof’ _ motion with his hands, “dissapear.” 

Harry bites the inside of his cheek. Coming from Louis Tomlinson, this was rich. Harry sniffs and looks down at his hands as they twitch. He downs the rest of his beer quickly and stands up, grabbing his jacket and sliding it back over his shoulders. 

“I think we should head back.” 

Standing up and throwing some cash onto the bar, Louis follows him out. 

“I- Did I offend you? I’m sorry.” 

“No, no. Liam and Niall will probably be wondering where we are. It’s been a few hours now, so.” 

Harry wishes that he could stand up for himself more. He’s too nice a lot of the time and he knows if he wasn’t, Louis would be getting yelled at right about now. He shrugs off Louis’ phony attempt at pretending he cares and walks slightly ahead of him on the way back to the hotel. Louis’ footfalls echo quietly behind him on the pavement, trying to keep up with his fast pace. Harry’s hands clenched into fists, hidden deep inside the pockets of his coat. 

As they stand inside of the lift, Louis talks some more and Harry nods absently, not listening to a word and staring ahead at the doors in front of him. He’d been having such a good night, too. What a shame. 

When Louis and Harry tiptoe back into the hotel room, one bed is completely empty. Niall and Liam appear to have passed out on the other, Liam holding onto a trash can in one hand and his phone in the other. Harry groans inside of his head, but tries to appear nonchalant as he glances over at Louis in the dark. 

“What do we do?” Louis hisses. 

“What do you mean what do we do? We sleep in the other bed.” 

Harry goes to set his things down on the counter in the kitchen. Louis follows him. 

“ _ Together _ ?” 

“Yes. Together. Unless you’re afraid you’ll catch some sort of disease.” 

Harry smiles coyly at him in the moonlight, ignores the pang of hurt as he says the words aloud. 

“No,” Louis says frantically, “no, I’m not. I just didn’t want anything to be weird.” 

“It’s not weird unless you make it weird, Louis.” He grabs a change of clothes out of his bag and turns back toward him. “I’m going to go change.” 

With that, Harry heads into the en suite and locks the door behind him. Even changing out of his clothes proved to be a harder task than he’d anticipated. His body is tired more than anything else, and he just wants to crawl into his and Liam’s bed and crash. Unfortunately, Liam had not allowed him the option tonight. He’d have to make the best of it. 

Harry changes quickly and doesn’t pay close attention when he brushes his teeth, heading back out when he feels like Louis’ had enough time to change. 

Before he lays down, he grabs his phone and adds the first song to Louis’ playlist -  _ Hate Me Right _ by Mafalda. 

He pulls back the covers and lays down, his back facing Louis as he sets an alarm for the morning and then tries to get comfortable enough to go to sleep. He can hear Louis draw in a breath. 

“Harry?” 

There are no other sounds in the room aside from Niall’s snoring in the bed next to theirs, and Harry keeps his mouth sealed, evening out his breathing the best he could. Louis is good at ignoring him, now it’s Harry’s turn. 

“I’m really sorry.” 

He shifts once more and then falls silent again, hearing Louis do the same a few minutes later when it becomes clear that Harry isn’t going to give him a response. 

Harry swallows around the lump in the back of his throat. 

_ You know he doesn’t like you, right _ ?

——

With a headache and an awful taste in his mouth from the night before, Harry realizes he missed sunrise. 

He stumbles into the bathroom and brushes his teeth to get rid of the film on his teeth. Running a hand through his hair and trying to make himself look presentable, Harry lingers on his reflection in the mirror. Ultimately, he splashes water on his face and walks back out to the bed, but stops when he realizes that it’s Louis laying there and not Liam. 

Liam who is missing from the hotel room, and apparently with Niall, too. Their bed is made up and clean, like no one had even slept there. Harry considers going back to bed on the nice looking sheets, but realizes it’s already almost eleven anyway. 

He rolls his shoulders back, stretching his arms above his head and twisting his neck. They were supposed to go to the casino today, but that sounded like the worst thing he could do right now. He didn’t even have any extra money to gamble with. How much would they really miss him, anyway? 

The beer he’d drank last night sits sour in his stomach and his head still hurts, the alcohol taking a toll on his system after not drinking for a while. It’s a feeling he does  _ not _ miss from his partying days. 

He’s restless, is the thing. Back at home, he was used to releasing his  _ tension _ in different ways, with whoever his current partner was at the time or, on slow weeks, his own hand (mostly it’s his own hand). Being constantly surrounded by his friends was fun at first but now Harry’s beginning to get frustrated. 

Slipping into the bathroom early in the morning with the shower on would be an option, but he doesn’t want to risk getting caught. Niall can be very nosy. Doing it in a public place was also definitely not an option. Louis is still asleep now, maybe he could…? No.  _ No _ . Definitely not. He had to stop and calm himself down at that thought. 

If he can manage to get the others to leave him here for the night, he’d be able to have all the time he wanted to make himself feel better, but he doesn’t think Liam would go for it. Harry would ask, and he would say yes, but he just knows Liam would make that pouty face of his and Harry would feel guilty and end up going anyway. There was no use. 

Harry straightens as the door unlocks, trying to shake off his restlessness and telling them to be quiet when they came in since Louis is still sleeping. 

Despite being severely sick less than twelve hours ago, Niall comes in chipper and in a good mood, with no bags under his eyes and no rasp in his voice. Harry tilts his head. Louis must really work miracles on drunk people. 

From a dark area in his mind, Harry rationalizes that it’s probably from all of the times Louis had been drunk himself, sick and dizzy in the presence of whichever man he was with that night. Harry shakes his head though, not wanting to think of Louis like that. 

He knows how bad rumours can get as they’re passed around the social groups, getting distorted and turning into a massive game of telephone. They didn’t prove anything and judging by the number of times the ones about himself had been fake, Harry vowed never to judge anyone he didn’t know unfairly. If he did know them, however, he figures he can judge them however he liked. 

But Louis was still a wild card. Harry couldn’t get him to sit still long enough to really get to know him, didn’t think he’d ever get the chance. Lately, he found himself not really caring if he did or not. Some parts of him would always be curious about the boy that prompted his sexual awakening, but he’d have to decide if being friends with him was worth the effort or not. 

“We brought breakfast!” Liam shouts to him in a whisper. 

Harry’s mouth waters involuntarily at the smell of bacon and eggs, and his stomach growls loudly. He hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before, and he’s just now realizing how hungry he is. 

“Great, I’m starved.” 

As he’s midway through a hash brown, Niall grins at him. Harry raises his eyebrows while he chews. 

“Did you sleep well last night?” 

Harry sees him and Liam share a look, taking bites of their food to hide the curves of their mouths, and squints. 

“It was fine, why?” 

“No reason,” Liam says quickly, “We were just wondering, is all.” 

Swallowing the rest of his food, Harry pushes away from the small kitchen table, tossing his plate in the bin. Frustrated, he tries to turn the attention back to Niall. 

“I thought you’d be more tired, Niall.” 

He just shakes his head at Harry. 

“Nope, Louis’ a miracle worker.”

Liam’s nodding at him like he knows exactly what he’s talking about and Harry feels left out all over again. He nods at them and goes to find his phone, trying to think of a way to get out of going to the casino. 

Louis gets up thirty minutes later, stumbling out of bed and heading straight for the bathroom before anyone can get a word in. Liam is out in the hallway again, telling them he has another phone call and excusing himself. Niall is laying on the bed farthest from Harry, playing a game on his phone. The book in Harry’s hands feels heavy and not right, and he struggles to focus on the words he’s reading. Eventually, he gives up, sticking it back into his bag and crossing his legs over the arm of the chair as he tries to get comfortable. 

He hasn’t started getting ready yet, but he knows it’ll be time to leave in a couple of hours. Trying to tell Liam he doesn’t want to go is seeming more and more impossible as he gets distracted. He’s really just pushing it until the last second. 

The headache he had earlier was gone now, but Harry starts rubbing his temple dramatically anyway, sighing loudly, feeling Niall’s gaze on him from across the room as he moves. 

“You feel alright, man?” 

Harry shakes his head and pouts. 

“No, not really. I’ve got a massive headache and my stomach hurts. Think it may be something I ate last night.” 

He hadn’t eaten anything last night, but how would Niall know? No one was in the room to correct him. 

Niall frowns, “D’ya want us to stay in tonight?” 

“No!” Harry yells, then coughs convincingly, “I mean, no. You guys should go and have fun. I’m sure it’s just a little bug. I’ll feel better tomorrow for the canyon, really.” 

Liam finds his way back in, his smile fading when he looks between Harry and Niall and his brows draw together. 

“Everything okay? What’s wrong?” 

“Harry’s sick.” 

Liam’s on him in an instant, and for a moment Harry starts feeling guilty. But he’s already come this far. 

His hand touches Harry’s forehead, feeling for his temperature. Harry’s glad that he’d started getting hot from the blanket over his legs and the sun, and Liam pulls his hand back with a grimace. 

“Yeah, you are a bit warm,” he looks over at Niall, “should we just all stay in?” 

Harry deflates again, “No, really, I would feel bad. You guys go and I’ll rest here tonight and feel better for tomorrow.” 

Looking unconvinced, Liam nods and reluctantly begins to tell Niall the new plan for the night, changing around the schedule and listing off things Harry needs to do while they’re gone. Harry listens diligently, pretending to write them down in his phone as he goes on. 

They all start to get ready after that, and Harry is giddy with excitement. He has no idea how he managed to get the room to himself for the night, but he plans to make the most of every second. He pictures everything he wants to do later and tries not to smirk while the others rush around the room and take turns showering. 

Perhaps a bath would do him some good, he could soak for a bit and then relax and rent a movie or order room service. After he sorted himself out, of course. That would come first. Or, rather,  _ he _ would come first. 

The next hour passes slowly, and Harry glances at his phone several times before Liam finally deems him okay enough for them to leave. 

Before they do, Louis hangs back behind them, heading to the door but pausing before he leaves, Niall and Liam already in the hallway. He looks down at his feet nervously. 

“Do you,” he rubs his other arm with his hand, “I mean, did you like the key chain?” 

Harry’s eyebrows raise as he studies Louis, surprised that he’s bringing it up at all. He nods frantically and turns his body toward him. 

“Yeah, I liked it very much. I’m keeping it on my bag until I give it to my mum.” 

He waits for a moment as Louis stands unmoving in the doorway, seemingly at a loss for words but wishing he had something to say. Harry fills the silence. 

“Thank you,” he smiles at him. 

Louis genuinely smiles back at him, for what Harry thinks may be the first time, and fixes some of his fringe over his face. 

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he starts to leave, then turns back, “I hope you feel better.” 

There’s a few minutes where Harry stands still in the middle of the room, wondering what the hell he’d just witnessed. Niall must really mean a lot to him if he’s actually taking his advice and being nice to Harry. 

But as soon as the door shuts for good, Harry rushes back to the bed, his mind going back to his plans. He lands on top of it with a bounce, spreading out his limbs over the entire thing and smiling to himself. 

Usually, when he plays with himself, Harry likes to take his time. To draw everything out and feel every little detail building up and up. 

That isn’t what he’s going for tonight. His body is wound tight with tension, and the anticipation of knowing that he’ll be able to get rid of it soon is eating him alive, his body flinches with the lightest touch. 

Harry starts by running a hand down from his neck, already feeling sweat gathering there, and then moving down to his chest. Running his fingers lightly over his nipples, they harden underneath his fingertips from the cold air circulating in the room. Everything in him screams at him to  _ hurry _ but he does his best to work himself up a bit first, knows it’ll be better that way. This may be the only time he gets to do this the entire trip and he plans on doing it right. 

He sits up to lift his tee shirt over his head, undoing the button on his jeans afterward. His hand moves lower, inching closer to the band of his boxers and pressing down on the skin of his flat stomach. That’s always been a sensitive area. Harry draws in a breath at the pressure next to where he needs it most and bites his lip. 

Blowing out a shaky breath, his long fingers move even further, tracing the outline of his cock through his jeans. He bucks up into it out of reflex, his head falling backward on the mattress as he presses down. The first touch is always the best. 

He tries not to let thoughts of Louis enter his mind, but they’re always there, filed away for when he needs them. They come out on nights like this. Honestly, Harry’s surprised that he’s made it so long being around him so much recently and not racing off to relieve himself every time Louis’ shirt comes up a bit when he leans over, or the way he gets all bashful when one of them gives him a compliment.  _ Oh _ , or the look he gives him when Harry does something nice for him. A sultry mix of surprise and shyness that makes Harry go  _ insane _ . He groans. 

In a fit of impatience, Harry sits up and tugs his jeans down his legs. Leaning up on his elbow, he watches as his hand travels back on autopilot to where it was, shutting his eyes as his cheek rested against his shoulder. His hips work upwards in a fast rhythm, chasing the pressure. 

Even the way Louis had looked at him a few minutes ago before he walked out felt a little debauched. Which Harry was aware was sort of inappropriate, given that Louis just being a nice human being was partially the reason he was so hard right now. 

He stops to pull his cock out of his boxers fully, stroking it slowly at first and taking his time working the head of it just the way he likes. Harry moans, loud and painfully, his dick throbbing and an angry red inside the tight grip of his hand. He squeezes it again anyway, already close, hissing as it leaks precum steadily onto the back of his fingers. He works it over faster. There’s no way he’s going to last much longer now. 

As he works himself up to the edge, his body tenses and his back lifts off of the sheets, desperate and ready for it’s release. He’s so close. Just a _little_ _more_. 

“Oh, my God,” 

Harry’s eyes shoot open as he spots Louis across the room, groaning and spilling into his palm before he can stop himself. When he recovers from his orgasm, he blinks hazily and looks over at Louis frantically. 

“Louis, I-”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t, I- I’m leaving.” 

The door slams shut before Harry can apologize, and he’s left sitting on the bed, his lower body covered in his own cum, wondering what the hell he’s going to do now. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)


	3. 0.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vegas --> albuquerque --> denver

_ Louis _

Of all of the ways that Louis thought his evening would go, this was certainly not one of them. 

They’d gotten a full ten minutes down the road to the casino before Louis realized he’d forgotten his wallet. Liam had begrudgingly turned the car around, only because he didn’t want to be stuck paying for him to gamble later, and Niall complained the entire drive back. 

Life was much simpler back then. 

Fifteen minutes later, Louis has his back pressed against the hotel door, fingers clenched tight around his forgotten wallet, the image of Harry’s hand wrapped around his cock burned into the backs of his eyelids. 

He blinks once, twice, and waits for his rapidly beating heart to slow down a bit before taking a step forward. When he hears Harry start moving around inside, he rushes to the lift and presses the button several times, standing right up next to the doors so that Harry wouldn’t see him if he were to come out. 

Once he’s safely inside, Louis panics. They’re only still at the beginning of the trip, how is he supposed to look Harry in the eye after this? He can’t. There’s no way to get home, though, either. Louis will have to devise a careful plan to avoid Harry whenever he can. He panics for another reason, too. 

He’s  _ hard _ . 

With a falter in his steps and his hand awkwardly covering the front of his jeans, Louis returns to the car and slides silently into his spot behind Liam and Niall. They’d been talking, but they glance back at him when he doesn’t say anything. 

“Alright, Lou?” 

“Yeah,” he nods at Liam, waving his wallet in the air, “I’ve got it.” 

Liam turns back toward the wheel and puts the car into drive, but Niall tosses him a confused look over his shoulder as if to say,  _ I know something’s up _ . Louis just smiles tightly at him and fumbles with his seatbelt as a distraction. Swallowing, Louis tries to calm down a bit. 

Before, it was easy to imagine that Harry wasn’t  _ good _ . Louis could see his strong arms and his muscled chest sometimes through his shirts, but he could always at least imagine that maybe Harry had a weird birthmark or something. Some sort of secret that made him undesirable, somewhere. 

Tonight, Louis realized that it didn’t exist. There was no part of Harry that wasn’t absolutely flawless. Louis has to make a conscious effort to remember to blink, his wide eyes focused on the road in front of them as it disappears underneath the car. 

This predicament had opened up a very odd, very  _ not _ appropriate door inside of his brain. 

In some ways he’s disappointed. But in almost every other way he’s just, well, turned on. There really isn’t any other way to describe it. He doesn’t have to deal with these feelings usually, back in London. Getting off requires quite a bit of preparation for him and had always seemed like somewhat of a chore. Louis had to plan a night ahead of time, make sure Liam and Niall weren’t going to show up randomly, and then make sure he had everything he’d need just so he could spend hours trying to feel those few seconds of release. 

In his years of experimenting (alone, locked away in his room) he’d discovered that he felt better when he used his fingers instead of doing it the normal way. Unfortunately, his method demanded more time and attention, forcing him to go through countless bottles of strawberry-scented lube that he keeps hidden away in his nightstand, and most nights he didn’t even feel like doing it - either too tired or sad or both. 

Especially over the last few months, when school was getting to be too much and he was hearing less and less from his family. Louis was stressed, and he’d been unable to get excited about _anything_ for a good couple of months now. He wasn’t some sort of sex maniac by any means but that seemed like a _long_ _time_ for an adult male. Part of it worries him that he doesn’t work correctly, like there’s something wrong. 

With a firm hand still pressed punishingly to the front of his trousers, Louis decides he isn’t really worried about that anymore. 

“Shall we go in, boys?” 

Niall turns to them excitedly. 

“Let’s go, Ni.” 

Harry’d said he was sick, but Louis wonders if he’d orchestrated the entire thing to get the room to himself. He certainly hadn’t seemed that sick when Louis walked in. In the back of his head, Louis wishes he would’ve stayed back, too. 

He unbuckles and glances down at himself, relieved when his jeans no longer tent at the front and hoping the thought alone doesn’t summon it back while they’re out. 

The casino turns out to be just as crowded as Louis thought, and he holds onto Liam’s arm as the three of them navigate the large building. He dodges in and out between the crowds, smoke getting in his nose and the sound of people shouting all around them. Grimacing, Louis tightens his hold and speaks up. 

“How long are we staying?” 

Chuckling at Louis, Liam pulls them to a secluded table in the bar area so they can hear each other better over the commotion while he explains. 

“However long we want. I’ve never been so I wanted to see what it was like. Play a few games, maybe gamble a bit.”

“Yeah,” Niall nods, “I’ve never been either. But maybe we stay away from  _ that _ area.”

He tilts his head towards where two policemen are pulling apart two large, drunk, angry men. 

Louis laughs nervously, “Yeah.” 

He follows behind them as they try out several of the games, bored and looking for anything that could be fun. He spots a slot machine that takes pennies and stares at it. 

“Hey, I think I’m going to try that one, over there.” 

Liam nods at him and tells him to be safe and to come back when he’s done, sitting down at his own machine next to Niall. 

Walking quickly over to the vacant area, Louis finds a seat and grabs some loose change out of his wallet. He figures he may as well use it for something if he went through all of that to go and get it. There’s no way he’s spending a lot of money here, but a bit shouldn’t hurt. 

He’s putting a penny into it when he feels someone come up behind him. 

“Hey.” 

A man with bright blonde hair saddles up beside him, sitting at the closest machine, and leans in, close enough that Louis can smell the tobacco on his breath. Planning to ignore him until he goes away, Louis nods once in greeting and turns back to his machine. 

“What’re you doing here all by yourself?” 

Louis glances sideways and tries not to scoff. The guy is attractive and very obviously into men, but he’s not doing anything for Louis. Maybe in another setting he would seem more appealing, but right now he just seems  _ dirty _ and Louis excuses himself and walks back to his friends as the guy yells after him, leaving his money forgotten in the machine. 

Niall sees him coming. 

“That was fast,” he says. 

“There was a guy, I got bored.” 

There’s an awful moment where Niall smirks at him, but then him and Liam are entranced by their game once again and Louis blends into the crowd behind them while he waits for them to finish. 

He’d always hated flirting with people. Apparently he was quite good at it when he tried, since his old nickname was  _ tease _ . It just didn’t do anything for him. Even getting that man’s number the other day in the coffee shop was awful. He was trying to prove a point to Harry, but he almost chickened out last second when he finally got to the counter. 

It’s getting very difficult to ignore the fact that the only time he thinks he’d enjoyed pointless, flirty banter is when he’s with Harry. It probably hadn’t seemed like it to him before, when Louis flashed the phone number in his face, but he’d wanted a rise out of Harry and he’d gotten one. 

For three and a half years now, Louis prided himself on ignoring his little infatuation with him, but he’d also never been forced to see Harry up close for this long. It’s beginning to take a toll on him. It would be much easier to pretend to hate him if Louis could picture him as a bad guy. When they’re together, it’s impossible to catch Harry doing anything less than  _ good _ . He’s always nice, kind, and overall charming. Maybe even a bit handsome, too. 

Louis considers himself to be smart and aware of his emotions and surroundings, but he can’t even trick himself into thinking there’s any other reason. He’s already been so rude to him that he’s sure Harry would never want him anyway, but at the very least, maybe if Louis admits it to  _ himself _ then he can work through it and make it go away faster. 

He knows the crush he had originated the first time they met, but thinking about that night only makes him sad. Plus, Harry hadn’t even remembered it so it couldn’t have been that life changing, or at least not as much as it had been for Louis. That’s a story for another time, he figures. 

“Hold on, I’ll be right back,” Liam steps away as his phone vibrates, pulling it out and putting it up to his ear as he walks away. 

“That his mom?” He asks Niall. 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” 

Louis frowns at the vague answer but leaves it alone, examining the machine Liam abandoned. 

“Any luck?” 

“A bit, yeah. I won,” Niall squints at the small screen and laughs, “thirteen dollars.” 

Chuckling, Louis crosses his legs and leans forward on his elbows. When Liam gets back from his phone call, Louis will remind him that he wants to leave. 

In the meantime, he’s left a stack of pennies next to his chair, and Louis keeps inserting them into the slot and pressing random buttons until he gets tired of it. 

Liam’s mystery phone call turns out to take almost an hour, and by the time he comes back to the machines Niall and Louis are standing next to them, arms crossed and ready to go back to the car. Face flushed, he looks down at his feet sheepishly when he reaches them, fixing his hair and trying to seem casual. 

“Uh, you guys ready?” 

Louis and Niall share a look, then speak at the same time. 

“Yes.” 

Louis doesn’t want to pry so he doesn’t ask who he was talking to or what took him so long, but he makes sure that Liam knows he’s irritated as he whines all the way back to their car. 

They’re all quiet on the way back, tired and worn out from the chaos in the casino. While Liam stepped away, he and Niall and gotten some snacks and played a few more slots before heading back to where Liam left them. Louis’ glad he got to experience what it was like, but he doesn’t see himself going back in the future. 

At the same time, he wants to stay out as long as possible so that Harry would be asleep when they walk in. Knowing Harry, he’d probably want to talk about it or apologize, but Louis hopes that he’ll just leave it alone and let it fade away. 

On the way back, Louis lays his head against the glass and stares down at the road below him, watching the sun set behind the mountains over Vegas. 

——

Harry is, of course, awake when they get back to the hotel. When Louis looks over at him, he’s all fidgety, eyes darting between Louis and the others while Liam fills him in on the casino. He’s sitting up in his and Liam’s bed, part of the sheet buried into his clenched fist. 

Louis excuses himself to the restroom to change and sits on the edge of the tub until he hears Niall telling them goodnight. Tiptoeing out, he sets his other clothes down on top of his bag and goes to get in bed. He wonders if Harry had the sheets changed or if he’s still laying on the same ones right now. The thought absolutely should not make him want to crawl up beside him and bury his face in the pillow. 

It strikes him as odd at first, when Harry opts to sleep on the outside of his bed instead of next to the wall where he usually is, but he realizes as his eyes adjust to the dark that Harry’s facing him now. Louis takes a deep breath and turns his back to him, trying to calm down enough to fall asleep quickly. He doesn’t. 

After a few hours of tossing and turning, he gets up once again to lock himself in the restroom, listening for any change in the snoring patterns of his friends as he tries to be quiet. 

Louis starts by splashing his face with cold water, trying to get his mind away from the image of Harry’s naked body. That doesn’t work, either. His body is drawn up and anxious and he’s never been very good at releasing tension in  _ any _ form. 

Frustrated, he sits down on the lid of the toilet and covers his face with his hands. He doesn’t know if it’s Harry’s fault for not locking the door or his own for not knocking, but Louis’ a bit angry with them both. 

He was glad to find out that all of him was still working properly, but he hadn’t wanted to figure that out  _ now _ , with all of his friends asleep on the other side of the wall. When he couldn’t do anything about it. He sighs and walks over to the shower, turning it to hot and grabbing a towel from the cabinet. 

While he waits for the water to heat up, Louis undresses and leaves his clothes on the counter, catching sight of himself in the reflection as the glass begins to fog up. 

He’s never considered his body to be very attractive. Mostly because one time after a particularly wild night in uni, he’d showered at someone else's house and forgotten to lock the door. They’d walked in on him as he stepped out, shouted  _ ew! _ , then slammed the door and ran away before he could get the towel around himself. He’d been hungover and he still wasn’t sure who it was, but he thinks it left a big, subconscious scar on his ego. 

Louis was slimmer now, he’d lost some of the alcohol weight, and he felt more proportional. Even so, no one had ever seen him naked so he had no idea if he looked good or not. He thinks average, hopefully. 

But seeing Harry’s body had been disappointing for that reason - he was perfect. He had subtle lines of abs but not over pronounced, his arm muscles bulged as he worked himself, and his thighs had tensed attractively when he came. 

Louis’ cock gives a pathetic twitch, excited and depressed all at once. 

He steps under the spray of the shower when the mirror becomes fully blurred from the condensation, leaning his head back and letting the steam surround him. He feels sweaty, but he isn’t sure if it’s from the shower or from Harry. 

At least there was one thing about his body that he liked. Secretly, of course. If he wanted to, he could make himself small enough to fit nearly anywhere he wanted. In someone’s arms, preferably, but sometimes it just felt nice to curl up for a bit and make it seem like he takes up much less space than he actually does. 

Unfortunately, now all he can picture is himself curled up on  _ Harry _ . From months of shameless ogling disguised as glaring, Louis can almost picture them together inside of his head. Harry’s hard edges pressed into Louis in all the right places. 

Hesitantly and with a resigned sigh, Louis moves his hand toward his dick. He isn’t very familiar with this part of himself, more accustomed to putting something inside rather than focusing on what felt good here. He takes his time to try and figure it out, running a finger from the tip to the base, copying what he saw Harry doing, feels it grow harder as he continues. 

Drawing in a breath, he wraps his whole palm around it, slowly beginning to move it up and down. He twists his fist around the tip, hissing at the sensation. Suddenly he’s forgotten why he was so against this. 

It figures that the only time he’s actually getting off on this is when he’s seen Harry do it only hours before. And -  _ oh _ . 

That thought gets him. Thinking about how, just a little bit earlier, just a few feet away from where he’s standing right now, Harry had stroked himself off - had probably even  _ come _ from knowing that Louis was watching him. 

His fist stutters on his hard prick, his breathing picking up as he works himself faster. Louis leans back against the cool tile, his head falling back as he whimpers, trying to keep quiet because of the thin walls. 

It’s always taken him such a long time to get to this point by himself, but he tries not to think about any of that right now. Right now he’s a bit preoccupied. He’d have to get rid of it tomorrow, but for tonight he’ll allow himself the fantasy. 

His other hand slides around to his back, moving down over his wet skin until he reaches the curve of his ass, lightly stroking a finger over his hole and shuddering. He groans, cutting himself off and biting his lip. With overwhelmed tears beginning to form at the corner of his eyes, he continues working his hips back and forth between both of his hands. He’s so close. 

Then, there’s a knock on the door and a soft, scratchy voice that Louis can just barely hear over the noise of the shower. 

“Louis?” 

He comes. 

——

After breakfast the next morning, Louis makes a run for the pool. He doesn’t even feel like swimming, but he needs an escape. Harry’s been eyeing him since they woke up, and Louis feels claustrophobic under his gaze. 

When Harry had knocked on the bathroom door asking for him the night before, Louis had hurried to turn the water off and tell him he’d be out in a second. It was a half hour later before he actually came out, having cleaned himself up and wiped down with a cold rag to cool off. Harry was already back asleep when he walked out. 

Louis hadn’t had anymore trouble getting to sleep after that, slid in next to Niall and drifted off as soon as his head hit the pillow. He isn’t going to think about what that means, either. 

He’s still unsure of if Harry heard what he was doing, but he doesn’t plan on talking to him and finding out. This whole thing is embarrassing enough as it is. 

“You going to the pool?” 

Niall’s voice echoes throughout the room right as he’s opening the door to sneak out, and Louis turns around to glare at him. Nodding, he slams the door behind him and hopes that Harry didn’t see him. 

Before they went downstairs, Louis told Liam he was going for a swim after they ate and to not tell anyone. Liam didn’t question him, but now that was useless. Niall announced it, so he was sure Harry would follow him at some point when he could get out without seeming suspicious. 

Louis pauses before taking off his shirt, debating on how scared he is of the possibility of Harry seeing his upper body. He rips it off and jumps in quickly. If Harry sees him shirtless, Louis mused, maybe he would leave him alone. 

He floats on his back for a bit before he hears the heavy door click open. Footsteps make their way closer to him, until Harry’s seated on one of the lounge chairs near the edge of the water. 

“Hey,” he starts, running a nervous hand through his hair and looking around the room. 

Keeping his body hidden under the water, Louis says nothing. 

Harry rubs his hands down his thighs and purses his lips, seeming anxious. Louis wonders what he’s about to say, sure that whatever it is will probably only make things worse. 

“I’m really sorry about yesterday. It was my bad. I should’ve locked the door and I didn’t.”

When Louis keeps staring, Harry glances up at him and sighs before continuing. 

“Look, I just don’t want things to be weird for the rest of the trip, yeah? We don’t want Liam and Niall on our case.” 

At that, Louis nods, and Harry gives him a hint of a smile in return. 

“So, we’re good?” 

Louis gulps tries to keep his voice level, “Yeah.” 

Harry nods, his gaze staying on Louis for a few beats too long before he shakes his head and stands, heading to the door. 

“I’ll see you up there,” he smiles and waves, and Louis waits until he hears the door shut to release the breath he was holding. 

He gets out, drying himself off and pulling his dry clothes back on. He walks out to the shop area near the lobby. It’s filled with chocolate, ice cream, and other high calorie foods and Louis has the urge to consume all of it at once. 

Psychology has always come easy to him, and it frustrates him when he can’t properly say what he’s thinking. Often times when Louis finds himself in an argument or conflict, he shuts down. Afterward, he would sit and think about all of the things he should have said, or what he could have done to make things easier for him in the future. 

That night at the bar, when his mouth had gotten ahead of his brain and he’d insulted Harry, had been a  _ really _ good night. For once, he felt like someone understood what he was saying. Niall and Liam could be sympathetic, but that was all. There was no actual relation. 

Louis knows that Harry seems to have a pretty good relationship with his mum and sister, but he also knew that he had issues with his father, and that he’d been very close with his stepfather before he passed away. He’d probed Niall about it one night when he was drunk. Not enough to feel guilty about, but enough to have some useful information should he need it for later. 

He knows how the brain works, is familiar with all of the triggers that release certain emotions and trigger reflexes in other people. On each of his tests, he’d gotten full marks. But for some reason none of it seemed to apply in his real life. That was what seemed to be the most frustrating, having all of the answers and knowing exactly what he  _ should _ be doing, but unable to do it. Louis grabs several candy bars from the shelves and goes to pay for them at the front desk. 

That’s the thing, is that he wants to  _ keep _ talking to Harry like the other night. He wants to get into all of their past mistakes and relive their happiest moments. More than anything else, he wants to ask him if he remembers the night they met. Louis’ pretty sure he doesn’t, but part of him wishes he did. 

On his way back up to the room he takes his time, exploring the other hallways on the bottom floor before taking the stairs up to his own. To pass some more time, he thinks about phoning one of his siblings but decides against it. The last time he’d talked to them, the night before last, he was at the club. His phone buzzed as soon as they’d walked in and for a moment he’d been grateful for a chance to excuse himself from standing alone with Harry. Then he’d answered the phone. 

It’s not that it wasn’t nice to hear their voices, but it was what their voices  _ said _ that got to him. It was hello and then it was Lottie has a new internship and she needs money for a flight, and the twins desperately need a new wardrobe for school, and the girls want to go to expensive summer camp and their payments are due next week. 

Louis wants all of those things for them, too, but he really doesn’t have the money for all of it. He knows his grandparents are doing everything they can to provide for them, even digging into their own savings. But they’re retired, and Louis knows their money will run out sooner than later, hated that they even had to use any of it in the first place. That was their deal - Louis would provide for them financially if his grandparents provided for them emotionally. If they would give them a sense of family and belonging while Louis was away. 

As far as he knew, they’d held up their end of things. Even a bit of his, too. He feels a bit guilty, but if he’s being honest, he isn’t entirely sure he can continue down this path and still be financially stable. The money his mother left them would suffice for now, but Louis wants to save that for when there’s an emergency or something very important, like if one of them bought a house. 

Since he graduated, he’s been looking at jobs near home that he could pick up with his degree, but none of them paid well enough to relocate permanently. Ideally, Louis would be able to go back to school and get a higher degree, one that would be sure to guarantee a healthy paycheck at the end of every month. Then he’d be able to provide for his family  _ and _ for himself. 

Louis mentally shrugs. Somewhere along the way he’d stopped talking to them,  _ really _ talking to them, altogether. Over time, their conversations had gone from sweet family things, to asking him when he was sending more money. Not that Louis could blame them, since he put himself in that position and told them they could rely on him, but they’d lost that loving touch, and now even speaking on the phone felt like a chore. 

There were nights, admittedly, when he longed to hear his sister’s voice, or to listen to the twins babble in the background as the girls told him all of their latest gossip. But all of that seemed out of reach now, and Louis often hangs up before the phone even begins ringing properly on the rare occasion he’s desperate enough to actually dial. Family is a sensitive topic for them, and it always had been. Their father left them when Louis was young, and no one ever brought him up or tried to work through the pain that he caused. When his mother passed, they did the same thing. It’d taken Louis a long time to realize that. 

In an immature way, it makes him angry that his friends have such great relationships with their families. Niall’s constantly on texting his brother, Liam talks fondly of his parents and calls them once every few days, and Harry seems like he talked to his mother and sister nearly every night before bed when he’s able. It’s not that he wants them to be in his own situation, but it gets a bit old when each time their phones ring it’s just a reminder that Louis’ isn’t. And each time they say  _ I love you too _ Louis can’t remember the last time he’d heard those words. 

Slipping back into the room, he sets the candy bars down on top of his bag and falls backwards onto the bed. He looks up at Niall and sighs. 

“Hey, buddy,” Niall laughs, “what’s up?” 

“Nothing. I’m just tired.” 

Louis rolls over to lay on his back, listening as Harry and Liam talk quietly to each other across the room. He stares up at the ceiling, pointing out designs in his head that he sees on it. 

“Well, I was thinking ‘bout taking the car to Fremont Street and seeing what’s all down there as an early birthday thing. Heard there was some killer live music and food,” Niall pauses, “want to come with?” 

Louis rests his head on his palm and glances over at Niall conspiratorially. 

Then, in a whisper, “Just us?” 

“Just us,” Niall confirms, smiling. 

Louis grins at him and jumps out of the bed, running over to his bag to change his clothes. Niall comes up behind him. 

“We have to get going pretty soon so we can make it back in time to head to the canyon.” 

Nodding, Louis changes in the bathroom in record time, hearing Niall explain their plans to the others. He stays there for a minute longer, listening to see if they ask to go with them, but thankfully they just say okay. 

When he steps out, he asks Niall if he’s ready to go, making a point to grab his wallet on the way to the door. There’s no way he’s repeating last night, no matter how much he really sort of wants to. 

Tonight he’s just excited to hang out with his friend. Niall still doesn’t know everything about Louis yet, his family issues and his past with drinking and partying, but Louis considers him to be his best, closest friend. Liam’s up there, too, but where he feels like he can be fully himself around Niall, Liam always sort of had this presence like a parent. Like if Louis did something bad he would get lectured about it. But he’d never actually given Louis any reason to believe that he would judge him, which Louis valued more than any of the other things. 

Niall and Louis chat on the way down to the car, their conversation flowing like it always had. 

“There’s no way he actually said that.” 

Niall gawks, “Of course he said that! That’s why I punched him in the first place.” 

Louis rolls his eyes, smiling wide at Niall’s story as they load into the car. 

“You could’ve just talked to him, you know,” Louis gestures, “like a normal person.” 

The skin around Niall’s eyes crinkles as he gets on to the highway. He turns to Louis once they get on, staring at him from the corner of his eye. 

“What,” Louis asks, returning his gaze. 

“Nothing. I just missed this, ‘s all.”

Louis’ brows draw together, “I’ve not gone anywhere.” 

“I know,” Niall sighs, “but you’ve been so off lately. It’s nice to see you happy.” 

At that, Louis nods and crosses his legs. He knows that Niall probably thinks it’s at least somewhat because of Harry judging by the smirk on his lips, but Louis would sooner guess that it’s simply getting out of his flat. 

When he’s there alone, it’s easy to convince himself that he’s not lonely. He works occasionally and busies himself with school work, but it’s always like there’s something missing. Not that he hadn’t had some bad times on the trip so far, but at least he was  _ out _ , experiencing real life and social interaction. 

Over the half hour it takes them to get there, Niall doesn’t bring up Harry once. He asks Louis about his life, his job, how school had been for him, and how his family is. Though he’s on rough terms with his siblings at the moment, it feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders the more he vents. 

In return, Louis asks him about his own life. Niall speaks excitedly about getting to teach kids about music, his eyes widening as he gestures. Harry studies music, too, but Niall has a way of making old, classical music sound like the most appealing thing in the world. 

It’s nice, Louis realizes, to hear Niall get so worked up over something he’s so obviously interested in. Since it isn’t a topic that normally comes up in conversation, Louis lets him get everything out while he can, explaining details about some types of music and instruments that Louis’ never even heard of. 

Over the tops of the traffic in front of them, Louis can make out the sign down the road,  _ Fremont _ . Niall manages to steal a spot to park as someone pulls out of the front row, and soon enough Louis finds himself standing in front of a giant, open-air mall. 

Niall immediately leads them to the center, pulling out his phone to take a picture. 

“I’m sending this to Li, he’ll be so pissed he didn’t come.” 

They snicker as Niall presses send, laughing when Liam’s response comes back as an angry emoji. He pockets his phone and turns back to Louis. 

“What should we hit first?” 

Louis shrugs, but begins walking toward where there seems to be the most noise. It turns out to be a concert, people gathered closely around the small stage as the performer sang with his guitar. 

Niall nudges him with his elbow. 

“Remember when you used to sing?” 

“Niall,” he winces, “no, please. Don’t talk about it.”

“C’mon, Lou! You were great. I still don’t know why you stopped.” 

He finds himself throwing up one shoulder once again, bashful as he looks down at his feet. 

He used to sing a lot, and Niall never let him live it down when he caught him doing it when Louis thought he was home alone. He remembers to lock his door now. Mostly. Niall said he had the voice of an angel, but Louis had scoffed and turned bright red, begging him to drop it. 

They watch the concert until the man thanks them for coming out and the crowd disperses to the other attractions. Wandering over to a map, Louis reads over their options. 

“We could go ziplining?”

Niall’s face pales, “No. No way.” 

Louis laughs. 

“Okay,” he drawls, “what about the light show?”

“I think that’s only at night, mate.” 

He sticks his tongue out at Niall and continues reading it over, looking for something he wants to do. 

“Oh,” he points enthusiastically, “we have to go rub Buddha’s belly for good luck. I heard it’s tradition.” 

Niall just shakes his head and follows him, walking through the crowds and looking around at the shops. 

Louis feels lighter the further they walk, the more they discuss their lives and catch up. He’s so used to keeping all of it inside that he almost forgets how nice it is to get some things off his chest. 

“I just wish they would at least ask me how I’m doing first, you know? Like, I am providing for them, or trying to, but I’m still their brother.” 

Niall, even though he can’t relate to anything Louis’ saying, nods sympathetically and pats his arm. 

“I get it. My brother doesn’t do that but I know if he did I would feel like proper shite.” 

Louis likes that he doesn’t try to pretend he’s been there or knows exactly what he’s talking about. Thinks he might’ve punched him if he had. 

They approach the large Buddha sculpture, waiting for a family to finish up before stepping up in front of it. 

“So,” Niall squints at it, “is this a make a wish sort of thing, or…?” 

Laughing, Louis shakes his head. 

“No, you’re supposed to rub his stomach and it gives you good luck. I read it online.” 

Louis’ never been superstitious, never wondered about anything like fate or karma, but he figures he could use some right about now. 

Reaching out tenatatively, he places a hand on the curve and moves it lightly back and forth. He withdraws it a moment later after Niall’s done the same, smiling at the couple behind them as they step away. 

“Okay, come on.” 

Louis grabs Niall’s wrist and pulls him down the wide hallways. 

“Where are we going now?” 

“We went where I wanted to go, now we’re going where you want to go.”

Niall turns his head and stares at him questioningly, but lets himself be dragged along. 

At the very end of the corridor, they end up standing at the entryway of a storefront branded with  _ Banger Brewing _ . Niall’s mouth stretches across his face as he smiles, hugging Louis and giving him a big, wet kiss on the cheek and running inside. 

Louis laughs, wiping Niall’s saliva from his face and yelling after him, “Happy birthday, mate.” 

——

When they get back to the hotel, Liam has all of their things packed up and is waiting in the lobby with Harry. 

“We’re not late, are we?” 

“No, no.” Liam says, “But checkout was ten minutes ago so we just figured we’d wait down here.” 

It’s not long before Liam’s back distracted by his phone, but Harry’s there behind him, still glancing at Louis like he might decide to hit him at any moment. Louis decides he doesn’t like Harry looking at him like that. 

They complete the routine again, throwing each of their bags into the back and climbing into their spots. The pillows Louis brought to furnish the backseat are warm from the sunlight when he gets in, and he snuggles into them when Liam starts the car. 

With how quiet he’s being, Louis wonders if Harry told Liam about what happened last night. He knows Liam and Harry have always been good friends, but Louis sort of thought that would be too embarrassing to share even if they were close. He hadn’t shared it with Niall, afterall. 

He gets a text as he’s adjusting himself in his makeshift bed, pulling out his phone to check it. It’s from Lottie. 

_ Hey Lou. Any word on the money for the flight? I’m supposed to leave on Tuesday. Let me know _

He bites his lip and types out,  _ yeah. i’ll try to get it to you by tonight when i have signal. _

Louis clicks out of his texts and opens his banking app, sending Lottie the money she needs for the flight. Frustratedly, he throws his phone down near his feet and covers his eyes with his arms resting over his face. 

A second later, he hears a shift in the seat in front of him. 

“Alright?” 

Harry’s voice is small, like he’s still slightly afraid of him, and Louis quickly uncovers his eyes and sits up on his elbows. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just got, um,” Louis scrambles to think of a word but ends up just stuttering. 

Somehow, Harry manages to understand what he’s trying to say, or Louis thinks he does, and he flashes a small smile, nodding and turning back around to face the front. 

And that’s another issue he’s got. Harry is being really, really nice to him. Not only does he have no physical flaws, but he’s being genuinely kind. Louis thought maybe if he gave him some attitude, he would get annoyed and leave him alone. Hence, the coffee cup incident and the comment about having control. 

In reality, it doesn’t matter to Louis whether or not Harry got someone’s number, and he absolutely hates having control. It hurts his ego, sure, but Louis’ stomach felt sour the entire time he was getting the man’s number from the cafe and parading it around like a prize in front of Harry. He’d thrown it away as soon as possible. 

It was obvious to him now that he’s treating Harry differently than his other friends, approaching the whole scenario in a different light. In some ways, he always had. He cares less about what Liam or Niall think about him when he’s being himself, doesn’t think twice about whether they like him or not. They would leave if they didn’t, and they had yet to do that. Harry, though, always made him feel like he had to be the best possible version of himself, which confuses him even more. 

That’s why it’s so painful when Harry’s nice to him. Because Louis knows just how mean he’d been to him in the past. He doesn’t deserve Harry’s constant kindness and encouragement. By the time he realized he should probably stop being so rude, he was in too deep. He’d already made such a divide in their friendship that he didn’t think he could repair it. 

The only scary part of all of this is that Louis can feel himself balancing on a very thin line. Hating Harry was easy, having such a passionate feeling toward him never even fazed Louis before now. Somewhere along the way, though, Louis realized that the passion he felt may not be entirely  _ hate _ . 

And after a few nights ago, Louis feels like a whole other door had opened for them. They surely couldn’t be friends now, not without it being weird everytime the idea of anything remotely sexual came up, but that meant there was only one avenue left for them, didn’t it? 

If they couldn’t be friends, maybe they could eventually be something more. 

Or not, Louis thinks. If he gets his hopes up now, he isn’t sure they’ll ever go away. His emotions had already completely transformed, which was difficult enough to comprehend and figure out how to handle without Harry making it worse. 

“Ten minutes ‘til the canyon!” Niall announced. 

Louis sits up and pulls his shoes back on, ready to take a picture and then get back in the car and take a nap until they get to Albuquerque. 

Red Rock Canyon comes into view a few minutes before they actually pull over to stop, the mountain stretching itself out over the blank, cloudy canvas around them. Louis watches as it passes by outside his window. 

“Okay, Harry,” Liam steps out of the car, “Did you want to get some pictures of the canyon by itself while I find someone to take our picture?” 

Harry nods, pulling his camera out of his bag. 

Moving to stand in front of it, Louis gets the same feeling he felt on the bridge in San Francisco.  _ Small _ . The canyon is huge, and it branches out on all sides around where they’re standing. Louis finds himself captivated by the reds and browns mixed in to the rock on its surface, counting the layers he can see. 

There’s a click behind him but before he can turn around to see what it was, Niall’s pulling him over to where Liam wants them posed. He spends a minute adjusting his fringe, scuffing his vans on the orange rock underneath his feet while Liam hands a man his phone. 

He feels Harry come up beside him, leaning in. Louis thinks he should feel tense and claustrophobic right now, like he usually would with anyone else. 

He doesn’t. 

All he feels is the heat of Harry’s presence beside him, the side of his jean jacket resting against Louis’ back. He even thinks that Harry’s holding his breath, Louis’ ear just close enough to his mouth that he can feel it when Harry exhales after the man hands Liam’s phone back to him. 

They separate after that, and the moment’s gone. Harry’s back talking with Liam and asking to see the picture, and Niall loops his arm with Louis as he skips back to the car. 

He’s still not sure he believes in karma, but Louis hopes that rubbing Buddha’s belly earlier will do him some good. 

——

The first time Louis finds himself on his knees in front of Harry, it’s because he’d dropped his spoon from the soup he’d been eating. Harry had laughed when Louis looked up at him from the ground and that had been that. The whole situation faded away relatively quickly and both Harry and himself went back to acting like their usual selves. This sort of thing wouldn’t usually be an issue, except for the fact that Louis can’t seem to get it out of his head. 

It’s been a couple of days since then and Harry seems completely unbothered by the spoon dropping incident. If he could even call it that, Louis thinks. To a normal person, it probably seemed insignificant. Borderline comedic, even. However, Louis is not normal. 

He’s a grown adult man that just graduated from uni and had never had a sexual experience in his life - he doesn’t like to count the drunken make-outs and groping. He shivers at the memory. 

Louis’ done a good enough job at making his old friends believe he was experienced enough to hang out in their circle, but at some point, he hadn’t known when, he’d convinced them a bit too much and they’d decided he was a slag. He’d had to repress a scoff in his head at their hypocritical treatment. 

Underneath all of his open ended sentences and suggestive eyebrow raises on their nights out, Louis had been embarrassed at his lack of knowledge on the topic. He had, of course, researched the  _ in’s and out’s _ on his late, lonely nights and tried to retain as much as he could, but he’d never tried it out in real life on a living, breathing human. 

Louis supposes somewhere in his adolescent development when he was struggling with his sexuality he lost precious time in that department. By the time he made it out of his house, it was too late. Everyone was either extremely experienced already and Louis felt like they would laugh, or they simply weren’t interested in him. Neither of which helped his pride. 

The point is, Louis wants to be on his knees for Harry. He doesn’t think there’s any other way to put it. Sometimes, when Harry looks over at him in the car or late at night before they go to bed, Louis swears he feels it, too. But then he’s back to being bubbly, care-free Harry that wants to have group hugs and call his mother when he sees something that reminds him of her. It’s very confusing, and Louis is getting impatient. 

The four of them decide to take Niall out to a bar for his birthday, and Louis sits in the booth by himself while they go to order their drinks. They only have three days here, so they aren’t wasting any time. Louis had begrudgingly agreed, but huffs as he swirls around his water in his cup alone. 

Harry’d taken the longest to get ready before they’d left, spending an hour in the bathroom until Niall began kicking the door and yelling at him to hurry up. When he stepped out, Louis couldn’t help the way his mouth opened a bit. Surely it was illegal to wear a  _ see-through shirt _ out in public, and especially with Harry’s tattoos and muscles and -  _ ugh _ . Louis was unable to speak properly the rest of the night. 

He was, however, able to see Harry from his spot at the table, dancing filthily with the boys and girls around him. The sort of sweaty, grind-y dancing that Louis himself had taken part in years ago but had never truly enjoyed. Harry seemed to enjoy it, though. Louis can barely make out his eyes from this far away, flickering closed every few seconds as if he’s feeling so good he simply can’t keep them open. Or, Louis likes to think, he just can’t stand the sight of his dance partner. He’d traded off several times now, seamlessly, sometimes even dancing with two people at once. 

He manages to pull all of it off with ease, his hips working back and forth in a familiar swing that Louis can tell makes his dancing partners go crazy. Harry’s comfortable and in his element and Louis can’t remember the last time he felt that included in something. 

No matter how much he’d had to say about Harry in the past, he has to admit that he looks amazing tonight. The first few buttons of his shirt had been undone at some point, and the lace material allowed Louis to see every drop of sweat coming off of his tanned, smooth skin. His hair falls to just below his ears and is wavy from his shower and relentless pursuit of running his fingers through it. Oh, his  _ fingers _ . He wonders absently if Harry can feel him staring, but he doesn’t think he could stop even if he does. 

Louis feels like he should probably be more attentive to the birthday boy, but Niall’s halfway to passing out already anyway so he doesn’t feel too bad about giving all of his attention to Harry. 

Harry, who seems very respectful with whoever he’s dancing with, which gives Louis some comfort. His hands stay securely on their waists, and they face away from each other each time, switching frequently and not sticking too close to each other. Despite this, Louis still feels overwhelmingly, and unfairly, jealous.  _ He _ wants to be the one Harry’s dancing with. 

He clutches his water tighter in his hands and shakes his head, trying to listen in to Liam and Niall’s conversation. They’re talking about Liam’s job, and Louis’ very happy for him - really, he is - but his eyes keep finding their way back to Harry. 

Louis can see the way his tattoos contort with his movements and his muscles flexing underneath his sleeve. Biting his lip as he zones out again, Louis pictures what it would look like if that were  _ him _ dancing with Harry, moving in time with the music and feeling all of the things he’d missed out on when he was drinking. 

Tonight, he’s completely sober, which he thinks should probably scare him a bit more, since these types of thoughts are not normal even for drunk him. He would kill to know what it felt like to be held by those long arms, to be so grounded in the moment that he could forget all about everything else. Just  _ once _ . 

Liam and Niall are asking him where he’s going as he stands up out of the booth and begins walking towards the dance floor, but he doesn’t turn around to answer them. With shaking hands, he balls his fists to hide his apprehension and approaches Harry quickly, before he can change his mind and think better of his decision. 

When he gets within reach of him, Harry turns and doesn’t look the least bit surprised. But he doesn’t look cocky, either, which Louis is grateful for because it probably would have ruined the moment. He just seems calm. He quickly abandons the girl he’d been dancing with and reaches out to Louis, pulling him taut against his chest. 

For a few seconds everything is quiet around them. The loud music and pounding bass fades away into a dull thrum inside of their ears and Louis thinks about how well he fits into the hard curve of Harry’s stomach. 

With his back pressed tightly against Harry’s chest, he looks over his shoulder and into his eyes. He can feel Harry’s long fingers holding onto his hips tightly, rubbing them in soothing circles as their bodies sway to the beat. His presence feels constant, and Louis thinks this is the most grounded he’s felt in a long time. 

He looks back down at the floor, closing his eyes to steady himself. Harry's breath is warm on his neck, behind his ear and in his hair. He feels unsteady, but in a way that lets Harry to keep him secure, safe in their own little bubble. 

His lips graze Louis’ skin every so often and Louis shudders. He can’t remember a time he’d ever felt this close to someone, at least without an uncomfortable, booze-induced coma looming over his head and making it difficult to relax and actually enjoy. He moves his hands to rest on top of Harry’s as the song transitions into another, slower melody. Harry’s hands grip him tighter around his waist, tensing as if he’s nervous before spinning Louis around to face him suddenly. 

Their foreheads are touching, and Harry has to bend down awkwardly in order to stay at Louis’ level. Surprisingly, it still feels perfectly normal. Harry's hunched over form should probably have left him feeling like the mood had been broken, but right now he only feels like this is even more  _ right _ than what they’d been doing earlier. 

This way, Louis’ able to see the sweat on Harry’s jaw. He can make out the sharp line of his mouth as he releases warm breaths onto Louis’ face. He sees how, contrary to what he’d seen earlier, Harry’s clear eyes are very much open and he’s dancing with Louis face-to-face. 

Louis lowers his gaze down to their bodies sheepishly at the realization that Harry is sober, feeling his eyes on him and not being used to romantic attention from someone who didn’t have alcohol running through their veins. Cheeks pink and beginning to sweat, Louis lifts his arms around Harry's shoulders and then promptly buries his face into his chest, feeling as if the moment alone is too much to handle. Swaying in a way that lets him slow down for a second, he slides his cheek across the damp material of Harry’s shirt and sighs. Why hadn’t he done this sooner? 

Harry’s fingers find their way under his chin and bring his flickering eyes back to his own before leaning in slowly, eyes trained on Louis’ lips. 

He’d always thought before now that if he ever found himself in a predicament such as this one he’d simply knee the guy and run off to find his friends - apprehensive of any form of intimacy. Now, that’s the last thing he wants to do. 

Their lips meet for the first time a moment after, chapped and slightly tasting of the drink Harry’d abandoned hours earlier, but Louis thinks it’s perfect. There are no nerves, no panicked butterflies to fight off. The music had already changed again, but it doesn’t seem to faze either of them. 

Harry's hands rest on either side of Louis’ face as he slowly explores his mouth, Louis turning his head pliantly to wherever Harry adjusts it. 

_ So _ , Louis thinks,  _ this is what kissing someone feels like.  _

Based on all of his former experience with kissing, he’d been prepared for the clashing of teeth and a dull meeting of sweaty mouths and prodding tongues, but he’s happy to admit that he was very, very wrong. 

While Harry’s hands still cradle his face, his kisses run south along Louis’ chin and jaw before stopping at his neck and taking his time. His hands hold onto Harry’s neck tightly as if he’s unwilling to let him stop, although it seems unlikely Harry planned to anyway. 

High off of the feeling of Harry’s tongue on his neck and his apparent disregard for the awkwardness that was sure to come tomorrow morning, Louis pulls on Harry’s hair to look him in the eye and timidly nods toward the door. 

Eyeing him unsurely, Harry waits a few moments before he nods and follows him outside to their car. They’d hopefully manage to avoid their friends and would make it safely to the parking lot. Louis’ sure that Niall is drunk by now, anyway and Liam’s busy keeping an eye on him. The cool night air hits their warm cheeks with a dramatic gust as they swing open the door to the bar and rush, hand-in-hand, to the car. 

Louis grabs for the handle, but Harry stops him with a hand on his wrist. 

“Louis.” 

Hearing Harry’s voice saying his name should have brought him back to the present, should have pulled him out of whatever this dream or fantasy was and make him crash hard back into reality, but it only makes Louis want him that much more. 

“Yeah?” He whispers. 

Harry seems torn again, furrowing his brows and looking back and forth between Louis’ lips and eyes where he had him pinned between himself and the car. His grip on his wrist had loosened enough so that Louis was able to put a hand on Harry’s neck and pull his lips back down to his, hearing Harry sigh into his mouth as he kissed him back. 

“Please,” Louis said, taking a moment to step back and look clearly into Harry’s eyes, showing him that he’d meant what he said. 

With that, Harry pulls open the car door and steps in after Louis, shutting it behind them and locking it shortly after. For a moment they just stare at each other, eyes roaming over faces and down bodies and then back up again. 

Again, Louis thinks it should feel awkward, Harry hunched over near the side door, staring Louis down and not making any moves to come closer, but it just feels normal. Nothing was ever awkward with Harry, he realized. It’s like he always knows exactly what to say or do to keep him on the edge of his seat, but in the most comfortable and safe way Louis can explain. Like he knows what he needs and is prepared to give it to him no matter how crazy or desperate Louis seems. 

Harry’s hand finds his in the dark and he runs his thumb over the back of it, shifting closer to Louis and moving in beside him on the middle row of seats. There’s just enough light from the bar and the street that Louis can make out Harry’s shape, his cheekbones and the movement of his arms as he reaches across their bodies to hold his hand. The high energy desperation that he’d felt earlier was gone and is replaced by a slow, sensual moment, private and lovely and quiet, and just what Louis needs. 

Slowly, Harry leans in to kiss him again, sliding his lips across Louis’ in a way that has him breathless, hands fisting the front of Harry’s shirt as they move together. In this way, Louis can take his time. He can calm down all of his racing thoughts and focus on nothing but the way Harry’s running his hands through his hair, moving his thumb along Louis’ cheekbone. 

When Louis pulls back for air, Harry moves to his jaw, pressing soft, wet kisses against the skin behind his ear and making Louis bite his lip to hold in all of the noises he wants to make. Pathetically enough, Louis’ already hard in his tight jeans, his cock pressing up against the zipper of the denim. All of the times he pictured this scenario in his head, he expected himself to be ashamed of his excitement, but something about Harry makes him certain that he won’t be judged. 

As Harry continues to move down and leave open-mouthed kisses to the exposed part of Louis’ chest, he stops him. 

“H-Harry,” Louis pants. 

He can feel Harry move back up to look him in the eyes, watching the way his tongue dips out of his mouth to taste Louis’ skin on his lips. 

“What is it, love?” He brings Louis’ hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it, “tell me what you want.” 

Louis can only moan quietly and hide his face in Harry’s neck, breathing heavily and catching his breath to prepare for what he wants to ask. 

“I don’t - I want to,” Louis pushes away from his body, dropping to his knees unceremoniously in the small space between Harry and the front seats, looking up at him to see his reaction. 

Harry’s eyes widen and he draws in a quick breath, shuddering out his exhale and stroking the side of Louis’ face. 

“You don’t have to, Louis. It’s - we can do whatever you want, if anything. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

Whining, Louis presses his face into Harry’s leg, trying to calm himself down. He’s even more pleased that Harry’s being so chivalrous with him, going slowly and making sure everything is consensual, but right now Louis wants him to  _ take _ . He wants him to grab his hair and show him what to do, how to please him, and he doesn’t want him to ask. He wants to make this so good that Harry thinks about it in the future when he gets himself off or when he’s with someone else, because Louis already knows it’ll be at the forefront of all of his future fantasies. 

“Please,” he whispers again, voice rough, finding it nearly impossible to articulate anything else to Harry without sounding pathetically gone already. 

Harry stares at him for a few more moments before nodding to himself, leaning down to kiss him one last time before lifting his hips off of the seat to unzip his jeans and slide them down to his knees. Louis helps him get them all the way off, fighting his instincts to just leave them there and get him in his mouth as soon as possible. 

He’s pleased to find that Harry is just as hard as he is, if not even more. Still in his boxers, Harry checks to make sure Louis’ still alright before proceeding to slide those off, too. 

As he settles back into the seat, Louis looks wide-eyed at Harry’s cock. He’d seen his own, seen some before in videos he had hidden on his laptop and once when a boy had flashed him at a party, but nothing could have prepared him for Harry’s. 

He’d heard the rumours about how big Harry was and how well he knew how to please people but Louis just thought they were exaggerating, trying to get him back in their bed. Louis was wrong. 

Harry was big, his cock standing up proudly against his flat stomach, curving back toward him and seeming even bigger in the low light of the car. He shakily places a hand on Harry’s thigh to ground himself and licks his lips, deciding how to go about this in a way that won’t leave them both scarred for life. 

“Louis,” Harry murmurs quietly, as if he’s afraid to break the atmosphere they’d created, “have you not done this before?” 

Louis closes his eyes. This was the question he’d been dreading. His original plan was to be so good immediately that there was no question of his experience, but that had gone out the window when he’d gotten down on his knees. But then again, surprisingly, Louis smiles at the thought that after tonight his only sexual experience will have been with Harry. 

He shakes his head, “No.” 

He holds his breath, hoping that Harry will find the same meaning in it that he had, and that he won’t just leave Louis in the car, hard and leaking in his boxers, inexperienced and alone once again. 

He feels hands on either side of his face, tilting him so that he’s looking into Harry’s eyes. 

“Oh, baby,” Harry breathes, his voice dropping a few octaves as he rasped, “D’you want me to teach you?” 

Arousal pools in the bottom of his stomach, swirling around and making his mouth water. 

“Yes,” he whines, “ _ please _ .”

Harry’s hands fall away from his face and he sits back once again, letting him take control but staring at him in a way that makes Louis sure he would be weak in the knees if he wasn’t already down on them. 

“Touch it.” Harry’s words are authoritative, clear, and Louis moves into action immediately upon hearing them.  _ This _ is what he needed. He thinks on some levels maybe he subconsciously knew that Harry could give him this and that’s why he’d been so fixated on him recently. Like he somehow knew that he could balance him out in just the right way. 

Louis reaches out tentatively and motions to touch him, but Harry grabs Louis’ hand before he can, “Wait.” 

He brings Louis’ fingers up to his mouth and sucks on them, licking his palm for good measure before lowering it back down to where it was. Louis can only watch with hooded eyes, his mouth falling open, feeling his saliva drip off of his fingers and unbelieving that he’s really in this situation right now. 

Before he can overthink it, Louis lowers a finger onto Harry, exploring, stroking it along the side and tracing his prominent veins. Harry visibly stiffens, swallowing back a moan before relaxing into Louis’ touch. It can’t realistically be that hard, Louis figures. He knows how to pleasure himself and surely Harry wouldn’t be all that different. 

Recalling things he’d seen online, Louis runs his finger up and over Harry’s slit, feeling the precum that had gathered there, and then brings it up to his mouth, sucking it off and shuddering at the taste. 

Harry actually moans at that, his hips rutting up into the air and throwing his head backward onto the seat as he his chest rises up and down in time with his harsh breathing. Louis moves back in closer and wraps his hand around the base, slowly moving it up and down, taking note of where Harry’s most sensitive. He watches as his facial expressions change and finds himself wanting to hear what his voice sounds like when he’s in this state. 

“Like this?” Louis whispers. 

Harry’s eyes snap down to Louis’, jaw clenched as another moan escapes his swollen lips. 

“Yeah, baby,” he pants, “jus’ like that.” 

Encouraged by the praise, Louis moves his hand faster, feeling overwhelmed at the fact that he’s actually giving Harry pleasure. He’d never have thought he would find himself here. But there was something about being below him, giving up control to him, that makes Louis insane in the best possible way. 

It’s probably because Harry always treated him with the utmost respect anywhere else, and the contrast with how he’s acting now is divine. This Harry is panting, scratching his nails on the leather seats and grabbing onto them in a way that Louis wants to be grabbed onto himself. This wasn’t the cocky, conceited boy from uni that he’d heard rumours about. This was a  _ man _ . And, for right now at least, this was  _ Louis’ _ man. 

He slows his movements, apprehension returning when he remembers what he’d originally wanted to do. Licking his lips to make sure they’re wet and taking advantage of Harry looking the other way, Louis leans in closer and hovers his mouth above Harry’s cock. 

Now that he’s inches away from it, he can truly admire it. The sheen of moisture covering their bodies makes it glisten in the light, his shaft twitching every so often and still leaking steadily at the tip as Louis breathes over it. The inside of the car holds a heady, warm glow and Louis wants to bask in it almost more than he wants to have his mouth wrapped around Harry’s dick.  _ Almost _ . 

Harry’s thighs clench under Louis’ hands as he exhales against it, desperate to make him feel good. He carefully lowers his mouth, trying to cover his teeth and suckling gently on the tip, where Harry seemed to be most sensitive. 

Harry groans loudly, bucking up into Louis’ mouth before he can stop it, making Louis take in more of him, murmuring words of encouragement in the quiet car. 

“Shit, sorry. Sorry.” Harry pulls back and tries to relax again, but Louis follows him down and feels around the seat for Harry’s hand, picking it up and placing it in his hair. Harry’s jaw falls slack as a string of Louis’ saliva links them together, drawing him back in to where Harry’s aching. 

“Fuck,” he groans, “_good_ _boy_.”

Louis keens around Harry’s prick, whimpering at the sentiment. If he had any coherent thoughts before, they were gone now. His brain is a big puddle of  _ good boy, good boy, good boy _ . 

Harry’s hand stays firmly gripping Louis’ short hair, not pushing him but pressing down enough to make Louis that much closer to his own release. He places a hand over himself and tries not to be too obvious about the fact that he’s getting off from getting Harry off. Harry’s fingers on his neck are searing hot, but they make Louis feel solid, like they’re a reminder he’s here with him -  _ for _ him. 

With the hand that isn’t touching himself, Louis reaches down to touch the parts he can’t reach with his mouth, moving his hand up and down quickly and taking breaks to move lower and massage Harry’s balls. When he can feel himself getting close, Louis stops palming himself and takes Harry’s hand in his, locking their fingers together and squeezing, making Harry glance down at him. 

It has the desired reaction Louis hoped for and he holds eye contact with Harry as he tries to meet his gentle thrusts into his mouth, watching him grow more and more frantic and jerky in his movements. Louis suctions his cheeks, trying his best to make Harry come, wanting to see what he looked like when he did. 

Somehow, even though he’s chasing his own release and sloppily moving himself in and out of Louis’ mouth, Harry still seems to vibrate with a sense of control. Louis drools. 

With Harry’s hand tightening in his hair, Louis takes his hand away from Harry’s cock to press down once more on the tent in his trousers. Within a few moments, Harry warns him that he’s close, Louis palms himself hard, and they both come. Harry tries to keep his eyes on Louis, but eventually his head falls back against the seat as Louis’ eyes roll to the back of his head, tasting Harry’s cum in his mouth and finding his own release simultaneously. 

As he pulls off, Louis makes sure to swallow as much of it as he can, knowing he’s got Harry’s full attention as he does so. After they calm down a bit, Harry pulls Louis up onto his lap, his legs hanging off to the side as he rests his head against Harry’s heaving chest. 

Louis clears his throat when his hands stop shaking. 

“Thank you.” 

In the afterglow, Harry cups his face again, pulling their foreheads together and kissing him gently, over and over again until Louis’ eyes began to close. Later, he can feel Harry kiss his forehead and lay him down over the back seat, but Louis’ already asleep when Harry turns back to check on him. 

If their friends had noticed anything odd, they didn’t let on to it. They’d woken Harry and Louis up when they came out to the car, finding them asleep on two rows of seats, and driven back to the hotel in the dark. Louis wakes up when they arrive, having been shaken awake by Liam, and groggily stumbles up to their hotel room. 

Harry smiles at him in the mirror as they brushed their teeth later that night, and Louis grins back. Tomorrow, he’s sure he’ll have some regrets, but for now Louis falls into bed thinking about the way Harry held him and hoping it was something he’d get the privilege of feeling again. 

——

The next day, Louis plays it safe. He hasn’t gotten a chance to be alone with Harry yet, but he’s sure it’ll happen at some point when he least expects it. The only thing Liam has planned for Albuquerque is a hot air balloon festival, which they’re supposed to be at in just a few hours. 

Louis does notice, however, that Harry seems infinitely more comfortable around him now. Like he’d finally figured him out. Louis tries to be angry about it but realizes that it excites him more than anything else. 

The feeling he had when they caught each other’s eyes seemed almost too good to be true, but Louis figures it’s because he’d never been looked at like that. Like someone wanted him. It was exhilarating. 

They also got to walk across the rainbow crosswalk and see several of the mountain ranges while they were there, but Louis would be lying if he said he focused on anything else but his newfound companionship with Harry. 

Even as they walk out to the car to go to the festival, Harry’s smiling at him from next to Liam. Louis smiles back, but hopes they’re not being totally obvious. Niall doesn’t seem to notice a thing, never pausing as he tells Louis all about his brother’s new baby. 

He still sits in the back, and Harry still sits in the middle, but everything’s different. There’s no weird tension or pressure to talk to one another, but Harry does make conversation on the way over. 

No one ever talks about how much the first time being with someone can open up a door. He feels hyper, strung-up and giddy with the thought of possibly getting Harry alone again. Not allowing himself to have any close contact is catching up with him, and Harry’s big hands on his skin make him feel drunk and unsteady, but in the best way he can imagine. 

When they step out, Louis realizes Harry’s holding open his door. He thinks he likes this version of them much better than before. 

“Wow,” Niall whispers, “there’s so many of them.” 

They all make their way to stand underneath them, Harry pulling out his camera to get a few shots of them in the air. 

Liam explains some of the history and Niall records a video on his phone, and Louis watches as the hot air balloons float higher and higher above their heads, drifting away into the morning. 

Harry comes back to stand next to him, hanging his camera off of his arm as they look up together. Gently, he feels Harry’s pinky wrap around his own, and Louis grins as the light from the sunrise washes over him. 

——

The second time it happens, they’re in Denver. It’s the night they arrive, and Louis’ tired from the long hours in the car. More than anything though, he’s restless. Ever since Harry had given him a taste of what being with him was like, Louis wants  _ more _ . He isn’t sure how to go about getting it, but he knows he has to try. The noise in his head is beginning to get very loud and nauseating, and he craves the type of release that he’d only ever had with Harry. 

He’d gotten another call from his grandparents today, had to send them quite a bit out of his savings for the kids, and he was on edge a bit. He texted Lottie about her internship, but she hadn’t talked to him since reminding him to send the money for her flight. He looks back over to Harry. 

He thinks maybe he should be worried that he’s already getting attached, but he brushes it off rather quickly and decides that he’s ultimately going to be let down either way, now that it’d already happened once. It was going to end inevitably anyway. He figures he might as well make the most of it while he still can. 

Biting on his nail as he waits for an opportunity, Louis sits at the end of his bed and watches the rest of the boys unpack, his own suitcase sitting untouched behind him. 

“Lou?” Liam looks over at him, “Alright?” 

Louis nods frantically, trying to smile at Liam but not managing to do much else to prove his answer.  _ What was taking Harry so long _ ? He usually steps out to call his mother at exactly eight o’clock. Louis glances down at his phone.  _ 8:07 _ . 

It isn’t like Louis can remind him either, because that would be weird. That would seem like he watched Harry or something. Louis doesn’t want that. He bounces his leg up and down and tries not to glance at the bathroom door where Harry had just shut off the shower. 

When he finally steps out, clad in a towel and nothing else, Louis’ mouth actually waters. He pokes his head out and asks Liam if he can bring him the shirt on top of his suitcase and runs his fingers through his wet hair. Uncaring of the others, Louis unabashedly stares hard at the line of Harry’s abs, before catching his eye. Harry’s already looking at him when he looks up, and Louis’ face turns bright red from being caught, but his message seemed to have been received. Harry tilts his head and squints his eyes, but Louis notices once again how there’s no judgment there. No smirk or cocky show off of his assets. Louis feels his saliva gathering again. 

He wanted Harry, he was sure of that, but there was also something else going on in his head that he’d never felt before. Unsteady and uncomfortable and right at the front of his brain. For some reason, Louis’ convinced that Harry is the only one who’ll be able to make it go away. 

Harry steps back inside the bathroom after Liam hands him the shirt and changes exceptionally quickly, walking back into the room and placing his phone in his bag. He looks Louis directly in the eye. 

Harry clears his throat, “I’ll be downstairs, getting a snack, if anyone needs me.” 

With that, he leaves the room. 

Louis blinks, owlishly and unfocused, and thinks over his options. He can follow him and hopefully get rid of this floaty, uncomfortable feeling, or he can stay here and try to fall asleep and most likely wake up in the same predicament. 

He stands up before he even knows he’s done so, and turns to Liam and Niall. 

“I think I’m going to go for a swim.” 

Luckily they aren’t paying too much attention to him, because as Louis races to the lift he realizes that he didn’t even grab his bathing suit. 

The main floor is mostly empty, and Louis pants as he searches for the snacks where Harry said he’d be. Hopefully  _ not _ on the phone to his mother. The halls all seem to blur together as Louis walks briskly past them, glancing both ways to check for Harry and moving on to the next when he’s nowhere to be seen. 

The only problem is that Louis isn’t entirely sure that Harry feels the same way. They’d shared a great moment together, but as much as Louis hated to say it, he’s worried that he’d become another one of Harry’s conquests. He’s also very friendly with Liam and Niall, touching them and being close, and it all confuses Louis too much to try and think about properly. 

Embarrassingly, Louis can feel the tears beginning to swim inside of his eyes the further he walks. Had Harry not meant for Louis to follow him? Maybe Louis was just imagining everything in his tired, overwhelmed head. 

His breathing falters as he makes a circle, reaching the end of the hall and still not finding Harry. Lip quivering and dejected, Louis makes his way slowly back down the corridor. 

He feels ridiculous for allowing himself to get so worked up. The whole idea was stupid anyway, and Harry obviously doesn’t even like him. What happened in the car had been a once in a lifetime sort of thing, and Harry had probably been at least a little bit drunk. He frowns. The floaty feeling is getting worse. He’d have to sit down soon if he wasn’t careful. 

“Louis?” 

He spins around, finding Harry standing behind him, looking confused as he tentatively approaches Louis. All he can manage to get out is a sob. 

“Oh, Louis. C’mere.” 

Harry wraps an arm around his shoulder and leads him to the restroom across the hall, ushering him inside and locking the door behind them. A sofa’s been placed in front of the sinks, and Harry pulls Louis onto his lap as he comforts him. 

“I can’t, I - I don’t,” Louis babbles into Harry’s shirt, his face buried in his neck as he works to calm himself down. 

“Sh, you’re okay,” Harry runs his hands up and down his back, rocking him back and forth under the flourescent lights of the bathroom. 

It takes Louis a bit to contain his sobs enough to speak, but when he does he keeps his face hidden in Harry’s neck as he whimpers to save himself from further embarrassment. 

Then, quietly, “I need you.” 

The words are whispered so softly that Louis wonders for a moment if Harry heard him. He begins to panic when he stays silent, trying to detach from Harry’s body as it draws out. 

“Wait, Louis. Stop.” 

Harry struggles to get him to sit still again in his lap again, but Louis falls pliant as soon as Harry’s big hand grabs the back of his neck. A few minutes pass as he waits for what Harry’s going to say, catching his breath. Louis turns further into his chest, sighing happily when Harry adjusts him so that Louis’ head fits perfectly underneath his chin, breathing in and out in an effort to snap out of whatever spell he’s under, rubbing a tight fist over his wet eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Harry begins gently, “if this is a good idea.”

When he’s met with silence, Harry continues. 

“You’re obviously upset, and I don’t want to take advantage of you. We can just - we can just do this. That would be okay with me, Lou.” 

His heart warms at Harry’s concern. He’s really turning out to be the best person Louis’ ever known. It’s too bad he’d never have him all to himself. 

“I don’t care.” 

But he would be damned if he didn’t try. 

Harry sets into motion at that, pulling Louis’ face away from his chest to look him in the eye. Now that he’d stopped crying, he looks at Harry blankly with his glassy eyes, watching him piece it together. 

“You don’t care?” He bristles, “You don’t care that you’re upset or you don’t care that I would be taking advantage of you?” 

“I don’t care about any of it. Harry, I -” Louis’ voice cracks, “I just need  _ you _ , okay? Please.” 

Harry studies him closely, his face contorting as he decides what to do. 

There’s a pause. Then, softly, “Tell me what you need.” 

Louis feels like he could cry in relief. He mewls, leaning forward to press their lips together again. 

Kissing Harry felt like nothing else he’d ever experienced, and Louis wasn’t sure he’d ever get tired of it. He would almost say it was his favorite part, but he just generally liked everything they did together, regardless of what it was. Big, soft hands grabbed the sides of Louis’ face, and he whimpers, grinding his hips down into Harry’s lap and feeling the hardness underneath him. 

Louis’ already completely aroused, had been running purely off of adrenaline and the wasted energy from his crying fit earlier, and was excited to finally have Harry all to himself. He kisses him harder, whining into his mouth as Harry licks into it, his hand sliding down to grab Louis by the neck again. 

Too soon, he finds himself being rearranged on the small sofa. His back is hot against the leather in the space next to Harry, who wraps an arm around the back of his shoulders. Harry’s other hand reaches for one of Louis’ legs and brings it to rest on top of his thigh, leaving Louis spread wide open for him to see. 

Immediately, Louis moans at the new position, tilts his head to find Harry’s lips again. Harry only stares into his eyes, stroking Louis’ cheek with his hand before moving lower. His nipples are hard underneath the thin t-shirt he’s wearing, and Harry pinches each of them, swallowing down Louis’ surprised gasps as he goes. Hips rocking on their own accord, Louis looks down at the outline of his cock in his sweatpants, smaller than Harry’s prominent erection but hard and straining against the material nonetheless. 

Smooth lips find their way to Louis’ neck, sucking and sure to leave marks as Harry’s hand travels even lower, pressing down lightly on the bulge in his pants. Louis sobs dryly again, unaware that his tears had returned, but not put off by them. His brain feels like one giant, useless mass inside of his head, concentrated on one thing only. 

It’s like Harry was the only one who can give him this. The only one who knows how to extinguish the burning fire inside of Louis that threatens to consume him if he doesn’t handle it properly. 

He could get himself off, but that only reminds him that he’s alone, which Louis is pretty sure is the main issue in the first place. He snuggles back into the seat and tilts his head up to look at Harry’s face. The floaty feeling is new to him, but if it let him have Harry, he would welcome it with open arms. 

He writhes under Harry’s hand as he presses down harder, rubbing slow circles on the head of his cock through his pants. He doesn’t have to look down to know that there’ll be an obvious stain on them later. 

The hand behind Louis’ head reaches around to grab his waist, pulling him even closer to Harry as he continues his movements. Looking up into his eyes, Louis shudders. Gone was the Harry that asked if he was sure, if he was okay, or if he wanted to slow down. The Harry he’d seen in the car was making another appearance.  _ Finally _ . 

His hooded eyes watch Louis as he begins to fall apart, but he moves his hand away, sliding it inside of his trousers so he can touch him properly. Louis leans his head back on Harry’s arm and keeps his eyes shut. Harry has him pinned to the couch, both of his arms securing him in his hold, making sure Louis takes everything that he gives him and watching him while he does it. 

He feels like he could combust. Louis can see the edges of his vision getting clearer already, the numbness in his brain dissipating until all he could think of is  _ harry harry harry _ . 

“That’s right, baby,” Harry says in his ear, “say my name.” 

Louis wasn’t aware he’d been saying it out loud, but he is now. He grabs on to Harry’s wrist and squeezes, “Harry, Harry, Harry…” 

Harry’s hand slides fast over his smaller cock, taking his time to rub his thumb over the slit, pressing down before starting all over again. 

“‘M so lucky to get to have you like this,” he says. 

He can feel Harry nose at the side of his face, can see the sweat of their skin pressed together out of the corner of his eye. 

“‘Gonna come for me, sweet boy? Hm?” 

Louis flinches, more tears falling as his body tenses up, balancing on the edge.  _ Fuck _ . 

Harry tightens his hold on Louis’ hand, quickening his pace as he kisses the tears off of Louis’ cheek and whispers about how good he was with his head pressed to Louis’. 

“So,  _ so _ good, Louis. C’mon, know you can do it. Come for me, baby.” 

With a few final strokes from Harry’s warm hand, Louis’ body peaks and lets go, painting Harry’s hand and both of their shirts in his release. 

Louis can only sit and watch as Harry pulls his hand away, bringing it to his mouth and sucking Louis’ cum off of his fingers obscenely, making eye contact the entire time. Louis moans weakly. If he hadn’t just come, he’s sure he’d be getting hard again. 

Harry turns to him, “D’you mind if I -” he gestures down to his own trousers. Louis’ eyes widen in muted excitement and he shakes his head. 

He sits up straight as Harry stands up from the sofa, grabbing his hand before he can go into a stall, pulling him to stand directly in front of him as he pulled himself off with controlled, precise motions. 

“You sure?” Harry murmurs. 

Louis nods, grabbing Harry’s free hand to kiss the back of it and watch as Harry pleasures himself. 

When they’d been in the car, it was dark and Louis couldn’t fully appreciate Harry’s cock. Now, in the harsh light of the hotel restroom, he can see everything. Every vein, every twitch, and every drop of precum that drips down the back of his hand as he begins to pull faster. But it isn’t that Louis cares most about - he can’t  _ wait _ to see Harry’s face. 

His wish is granted a minute after, Harry choking out a rough  _ Louis _ before spilling onto his face, Louis closing his eyes and relishing in the opportunity. 

Quietly, Harry bends down to kiss Louis’ forehead and steps to the sink, wetting a paper towel and wiping himself off before grabbing another one for Louis. 

Pleasantly sated and feeling accomplished even though he hadn’t done much, Louis lets Harry clean him up. He wipes his face down gently, making sure his eyes are clean from his tears earlier as well. 

Then, he moves down to his body. He pulls Louis’ shirt up and sweats down, gently cleaning the areas he can reach and then fixing his clothing back into place. Louis sighs happily when he feels the smooth back of Harry’s hand as he adjusts his shirt. 

For a moment, Louis feels oddly domestic. Like this is just something they did, and Harry took care of him like this all of the time. Like they’d walk back into the hallway holding hands and reminiscing on old memories, giggling about their inside jokes. Louis pushes that thought to the back of his mind. He’s too tired to be sad right now. 

Harry returns to him after throwing away the towels, offering his hand to help Louis stand up. Shakily, he gets to his feet and leans against Harry for support, surprised when Harry only holds him tighter to his body. 

Louis expected for many years now that he would feel ashamed after his future sexual trysts, like there would be a bitter twinge of regret when he looked back on the memories. But he’d been with Harry intimately twice now and he cherished those moments like nothing else. 

Each time he turned to look at him, he felt nothing but unbearably  _ fond _ . 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)


	4. 0.4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> albuquerque --> denver

_ Harry _

The first thing Harry does when they’re back in the car is add the song  _ Look After You _ by the Fray to Louis’ playlist. 

Ever since they’d passed the Colorado state line, Liam had been all jumpy and anxious and none of them could figure out exactly why. It starts subtly enough, but he’s getting progressively more anxious as the hours pass. 

He’d also planned for five days here, instead of the regular three or four. Harry glances back at Louis and gestures loosely toward toward Liam, but he only shrugs in response. Niall seems to either be actively ignoring it or totally oblivious as usual. 

Other than that, Harry’s been completely ecstatic the past few days. After Louis walked in on him  _ pleasuring himself _ , Harry was sure that things would just be uncomfortable from there on out. Surely there was no way to recover from that and go back to being the weird, tense, stand-offish friends they used to be. 

In some ways, he’d been right. They  _ weren’t _ able to go back to being friends - they were more. 

They hadn’t labeled anything, but Harry isn’t about to ruin this before it even starts because of a  _ word _ . He’d waited for Louis for four years. He’s willing to wait a little longer. 

Since Louis kissed him, Harry hasn’t been able to stop smiling. Getting to feel Louis like that, in the back of the car they’re sitting in right now, on his own  _ seat _ , makes him feel like he’s on top of the world. He refuses to think anything about the future of their little arrangement, but it still nags at him sometimes when they’re together. 

Which had only been twice now, since they aren’t able to steal much time away from Liam and Niall. When he heard Louis moaning through the thin walls of their hotel room a couple of nights ago, that had been it for Harry. Fully invested, no turning back. No concern for what Gemma or anyone else thought. If Louis would have him, if even only for the remainder of the trip, he was going to give in. 

Seeing Louis actually get down on his knees had been an entirely different experience, though. He’d wanted to slow down and make sure he was okay and comfortable, but more than anything else he just wanted to take  _ care _ of him. 

Louis had this way of drifting off sometimes, he’d noticed, and becoming this pliant, submissive thing that completely contradicts every aspect of his personality. It makes Harry melt. No matter what happened next, he’d gotten to have Louis like that.  _ Twice _ now, he’d had the privilege of taking care of him. Once at the bar, and then again at their hotel. 

It was that night that was Harry’s favorite so far, in Denver. Not because Louis had been upset, of course not, but because after all of the years he spent needing Louis in his life it finally felt like, for once, Louis really  _ needed _ him back. 

A hand curls around the back of his headrest, feeling Harry’s neck and he grins. Louis’ wrist is small and soft, and it raises goosebumps on Harry’s skin as he continues his motions. 

All in all, things have been great, but it just seems like there’s something there, behind the good things, that’s lurking around the corner. It’s something about the way that Louis just fell into all of this so easily, after years of disliking him. Harry tries to push it down but it doesn’t sit well with him, not knowing all of the reasons behind his actions. 

If this  _ arrangement _ goes beyond their trip, they might have to have a conversation about it. For now, Harry ignores the weight in the pit of his stomach in favor of placing his hand on Louis’ back as he steps out of the van. 

They don’t touch in an obvious way, so their friends won’t see, but as they step out of the lift from getting dinner, Harry feels Louis’ pinky wrap around his again. He smiles like an idiot and tries to hide it by coughing when Liam turns around to open the door. 

They’ve got the art museum today, and Harry’s excited about it. He’s been reading online about all of the displays inside, and he already has several he wants to go look at. Secretly, he’s hoping that this can be his and Louis’ unofficial first date. 

“What’s the plan for today, Payno?” Niall speaks up as they start pulling out their clothes to get dressed. 

Liam bristles, seeming startled, and drops his phone on the bed to look at them. 

“Uhm,” he seems confused for a few seconds before smiling triumphantly, “Oh, the art museum!” 

Niall just shares a pointed look with Louis and Harry across the room and smirks, turning back to his own suitcase as if he’d proven something. 

After that, there’s sort of an unspoken agreement that they’d just check Liam’s list instead of asking him about where they were going. Harry figures it’s safer for all of them that way. 

While he pulls it up on his phone, he feels Louis nudge his leg with his foot as he passes him, smiling to himself while he walks away. Harry bites his lip to keep from grinning. 

Liam’s list for Denver is more complicated than the other places, longer, and much more detailed. As opposed to a general outline, there are exact times listed for the different activities and a brief description of what would happen at each one. At the very end, on the day before they leave, there’s only one thing planned. In italics, he’d simply typed  _ Bar _ . 

Harry frowns. They’d already been to two bars and a club so far. Maybe Liam felt like he didn’t get enough time to relax before? Regardless, he’s going to take advantage of everywhere they go and try to catch some private time with Louis. A drunk Niall and dancing, distracted Liam sound like the perfect opportunity. 

Written in the space for today on the list is the museum, then the botanic gardens on Monday, a Rocky Mountain tour the day after, a free day on Wednesday, and finally the mysterious  _ Bar _ before they head out on Friday. 

_ Perfect _ , Harry thinks,  _ a free day _ . 

He’s still smiling when Niall comes over to sit down next to him on the floor next to his open suitcase. 

“What’s got you so happy?” 

“Nothing,” Harry clears his throat, “I’m just excited about the schedule for the next few days.” 

He hands him the phone, still pulled up to the list, and lets Niall scroll through it. 

“We’re going on a bike tour? Sweet,” he hands it back to Harry. 

“You know, you do have the list on your phone, too.”

Niall waves a hand in the air, dismissing him. 

“‘S too much work to pull it up. I’d rather just look at yours.” 

Harry thinks about bringing up Louis, just to see how Niall would react, if he knows about them or not, but decides against it. Louis’ laying on one of the beds, headphones in his ears, watching something online and Harry could probably get away with it if he talked quietly. He doesn’t want Niall to tell Louis and give him the wrong impression, though. Like he’s asking if Louis thought he was any good, or something. 

As if sensing that Harry is thinking of him, Louis’ eyes hover above his screen, meeting Harry’s across the room. Harry’s lips begin to quirk up again, but he suppresses it. He adds  _ Stolen Moments _ to Louis’ playlist and turns back to Niall. 

“I think I’m most excited about the gardens.” 

Niall’s eyebrows raise. 

“Wow,” he says. 

“What?” 

Niall gets up onto his knees and grabs onto the counter next to them before he speaks again. 

“Nothing,” he stands up, “I just thought you’d be most excited for the free day.” 

So that answers his question, then. By the time the bright red fades from Harry’s face, Niall’s already off to annoy Liam. 

——

_ Treasures of British Art _ is on display at the museum, signs pointing to it from every direction. Harry wonders if Liam planned it or if it just happened this way, but he’s excited to see some of their history. 

He’s antsy to pull out his camera and take some pictures of the art, but he’s pretty sure that isn’t allowed. He can take some pictures of Louis later to make up for it, he thinks. 

Before they’d left this morning, Harry’d slipped a picture into Louis’ bag, in between his souvenirs from the trip. He knows that’s where Louis’ been keeping the prints Harry’s given him, a neat stack in the bottom of the plastic wrapped in a rubber band. There are several of all of them, a few of just Liam and Niall, and some of Louis with them, too. 

There’s one, though, of just Louis. There were many other times during the trip that he’d wanted to photograph Louis, but felt like it would be too weird or Louis would yell at him. 

The shot he put in his bag is of the back of his head, just a silhouette, as Louis looks out over Red Rock Canyon. His brown hair and tan skin looked so good in contrast with the mountains and the sky, and Harry hadn’t even fully thought through what he was doing before he was snapping the picture. 

When he’d lowered the camera afterward, Niall caught his eye and raised his eyebrows, but Harry acted like he was just photographing the scenery. Or, he tried to.   
Anyway, he hopes Louis will see the photo when he gets home and think of him. Harry knows he’ll already be thinking of Louis. 

They spend some time walking around and looking at the paintings, sticking close behind a group of tourists being led by a fancy tour guide that the four of them definitely hadn’t paid for. Liam tries to rattle off his facts like usual, but they come out wrong and he corrects himself several times in the process. Harry, Niall, and Louis just nod along. 

Soon enough, Niall goes to the bathroom and Liam’s phone starts to ring again. The minute they walk away, there’s a palpable tension rising that flows steadily between them, and Harry wishes he could reach out and hug him or something to get rid of the restlessness. 

He waits for Louis to make the first move, watching him smile shyly and grab him by the pinky, taking him back to a less crowded area of the museum they’d already passed by. 

At the hotel, he’d planned a million ways to sneak off and impress Louis. When they’d actually gotten there though, Harry couldn’t do it. He felt like there was too much pressure, too many eyes on them to get away with much. Plus, he really  _ was _ interested in the art. 

He follows behind Louis, trying to keep up with his small, quick feet as he navigates them back through the maze of hallways to a quiet area. 

Louis pulls him to a stop in front of one of a smaller painting, set up in the corner of the room by itself. 

“Look,” he says, pointing, his finger still locked around Harry’s bigger one. 

Harry stares at the painting, studying the details and trying to figure out why Louis picked this one specifically. 

It’s still a relatively large canvas although smaller than its neighbors, painted completely white save for the girl’s face which is painted a deep tan. There are small, delicate looking flowers placed throughout her hair, and she looks down, a solemn expression on her face. It’s beautiful. 

He turns to glance at Louis questioningly after a few minutes. 

Louis swallows audibly. 

“My mum used to love this painting. It’s  _ Rosina Ferrara _ by John Sargent. We had it hanging it the hallway when I was growing up.” 

Louis speaks the words with an accent, like they’re familiar, as the syllables roll off his tongue. Harry untangles his panky from Louis’, readjusting it so he can get his entire hand around Louis’ smaller one to squeeze it encouragingly. 

“When my father left us,” he falters for a second, “she wanted to give away the money he left, which wasn’t much in the first place. She said it was tainted. So, we donated most of it to charities and things like that, but she kept a little bit for herself.”

Harry rubs his thumb across the back of Louis’ hand. 

“On the way home from where we were volunteering, there was this street vendor, selling art. My mum told him how much money she had and he showed her the one thing that she could afford with it,” he gestures up at the painting, “it was this painting. I saw it every day when I left my room. It always seemed like it would just remind her of him, but I think she actually really liked it.”

Harry nods slowly, “And you?” 

Louis tilts his head and stares at it harder, like he’s trying to remember. 

“I think,” he pouts his lips, “I think I like it. I think every time I walked past it I thought that it was ironic that the only one left that we could afford with my father’s money was the one where the woman is frowning.” 

He runs his eyes over the painting one final time and then moves his gaze to the floor. 

“It’s beautiful, Louis,” he repeats his thoughts from earlier, “Your mother had very good taste.” 

Louis lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head fondly, turning into Harry’s open arms. 

In moments like these, Harry would usually panic. He’s never been good at comforting people. No one he’s ever been intimate with had even shown him the vulnerable, emotional side of themselves. With Louis, it just seems to come to him naturally. He doesn’t even have to really try, things just fall into place and Harry follows his gut and Louis seems to feel better every time he reveals another little part of himself. Harry looks forward to having more moments like these. 

But then, as quickly as it was there, it’s gone. Louis’ taking his hand again to guide him back to where they were, and they manage to get a bit further down and act natural by the time their friends return. 

“How did you even manage to get back?” Niall asks Liam, “I got lost every time I turned down a new hallway.” 

Liam shrugs noncommittally and looks back down at his phone, having walked up just before him. Niall takes it in stride, pretending like this is how Liam normally acts and moving on with the exhibit. 

Harry doesn’t get to do any of the things he planned. He and Louis didn’t get to kiss again, they didn’t sneak off to the bathrooms and have a repeat of the last time they were together, and it doesn’t resemble a real date at all. But it was worth coming, definitely, because now he knows even more about Louis than he did when they walked in and that’s a win for sure. He puts his headphones in and listens to Louis' playlist all the way back. 

——

The next day, at the botanic gardens, Harry makes sure no one’s looking as he picks up several of his favorite flowers throughout the tour and bundles them up and gives them to Louis when they get back in the car. Louis doesn’t smile, but he glances up at Harry with this  _ look _ in his eyes, this surprised, adoring, sweet look and for a second Harry thinks about reaching to grab his camera. 

He doesn’t, but Louis takes the flowers from him and blushes bright red all the way back to their hotel. Harry counts it as another win. 

——

When they go on a bike tour to see the Rocky Mountain the day after, Niall stops at more food stations than he does bike stops, and Liam seems too caught up in his phone screen to realize that Harry and Louis have fallen behind. 

Harry takes his hand when he’s sure they aren’t looking and swings them between their bodies, happy and full and pleasantly warm from the sun over their heads. They spend the day telling jokes and checking out the gift shops, buying souvenirs and taking pictures with Harry’s camera. 

When he gets back to the car, Harry holds open the door for Louis to climb in and Louis seems to only hesitate for a second before he leans up and kisses him on the cheek. If the others notice Harry’s open mouth and wide, unexpecting eyes, they don’t say anything about it. 

——

The next morning, Harry wakes up several hours before the others, researching date ideas on his phone. It’s already nearly eleven, but the snores of the others are deafening in Harry’s ears. 

He’s fully aware of how desperate he’s being, how obviously he wants Louis. Somewhere between opening up Google and staring longingly at Louis’ peacefully sleeping form from across the room, Harry decides he doesn’t really care. 

It’s a bit of a stretch, considering that they just dove head first into this without properly discussing anything first like he usually liked to do, but it all feels so right that he hadn’t even thought to slow down. 

In the real world things would be much different. Harry would’ve taken things a lot slower, spent the time to get to know him before asking him out and slowly becoming closer. In this alternate universe Louis never hated him, of course. 

But this situation was not normal, and neither was Louis. 

Always a paradox, Louis seemed to need an infinite amount of time to really get comfortable with, but Harry had only two more weeks to leave what would hopefully be a lasting impact on his life. He isn’t sure if he could, even, but he has to try. This is  _ Louis _ , and although he’s never gotten a chance to know him all that well, he’s not going to pass up an opportunity like this one. 

Harry finds that he’s actually not that uncomfortable with his abnormally strong feelings. In some ways, he’s not even a little bit surprised. Louis’ been the center of his attention the majority of his adult life. The only difference now is that he gets to enact all of his fantasies with the real person instead of in his brain. 

The search results for date ideas are filled with things they’ve already done, and other things that they haven’t but that Harry thinks Louis wouldn’t like if they did. He scrolls through them, his mouth turning down on the sides the further he gets with no good ideas. 

It’s not that Louis is high maintenance - in fact, Harry thinks he’s the opposite. But none of these ideas are things that they would both enjoy. It’s just, he wants this to be perfect in it’s own way, for Louis. Not the dictionary definition. Something much more personal and thoughtful and meaningful. Something Google isn’t going to provide for him. 

He sighs and pockets his phone, turning to look out the window. The room they’re in has a view of the spacious courtyard below, filled with tall trees and brightly colored flowers and a gazebo in the middle. It’s empty due to the early hour, and Harry thinks it’s quite quaint. 

Swiveling in his chair, he brightens. 

_ The courtyard! _ He thinks. It’s perfect. He’d caught Louis looking at it when they checked in a few days ago, so he would probably enjoy it. 

He grabs his wallet and walks out the door, buzzing with nervous energy all the way to the shop next door. He’ll have to do this quickly before he loses his nerve. 

Flowers seem sort of redundant since they’ll be surrounded by them later tonight, but Harry stops to get some anyway. If this is his one chance to take Louis on a real date, he’s going to properly  _ woo _ him. It’s a small bouquet, with only a few different types inside of the plastic wrapping, but they remind him of Louis so he buys them without a second thought. The other aisles in the store are filled with fancy gifts, giant teddy bears and chocolate hearts. Harry ignores all of that and goes to pay for the arrangement. 

The woman running his credit card turns to him with a smile. 

“For a special someone?” 

Harry nods, blushing slightly and biting his lip. 

“Yeah,” he glances up at her, “Actually, you wouldn’t happen to know anywhere around here that I could get some nice take-out, would you?” 

She frowns as she thinks it over, leaning over the counter a bit toward Harry. 

“Hm, there’s a place a few blocks down that has real fancy Italian options, but something tells me that’s not quite what you’re after.” 

He shakes his head. 

“Oh,” she waves her hand at him excitedly, “there’s a place just a few doors down that makes the best burgers. Fries, too. And milkshakes!” 

Harry smiles widely at her in thanks and takes his flowers, heading toward the place she’d suggested. 

Burgers and flowers weren’t his original plan, but Louis didn’t seem like the type to go for too much anyway. Plus, this way, he would have more money to buy Louis things later on. 

He swings open the door, hit immediately by the prominent smell of ice cream and burnt meat, and smiles. 

——

Harry hides the food behind the kitchen counter when he gets back to their room. He catches Liam on his way out, but he seems to be in a rush and doesn’t notice Harry waving, so Harry lowers his hand awkwardly and shuffles upstairs. 

It’d taken him until he was already halfway back to the hotel to realize that he’d already gotten the food and he has no idea when they’ll get to actually eat it, but he figures it’s too late anyway. It isn’t like he can return it. 

Louis’ gone, too, when he gets inside, but thankfully Niall’s in the bathroom when he walks in with the to-go back and flowers. With Niall’s nose, he’ll be lucky if the food goes unnoticed. 

“Hey, mate. What’s up?” Niall addresses him. 

“Nothing. Just got back from a walk.” 

Niall nods as he pats down his wet hair, fussing with it to make it look presentable in the mirror hanging on the wall. 

“Think I’m going to go out for the day. Maybe hit a few more places I wanted to see before we leave. I think Liam’s going to be gone most of the day, too.”

There’s a lilt in his voice, like there’s something he’s not saying, but he seems genuine so Harry nods, watching him collect his things. 

Then, as he’s halfway out the door, he looks back over his shoulder like he remembers something. 

“Louis’ at the pool.” 

As soon as the door shuts, Harry gets nervous. He knows it sounds incredibly conceited, but up until now any romantic encounters he’s been a part of have always been initiated by someone else. People are always trying to get his attention, to keep it, so they go out of their way to make him happy. Now, the shoe seemed to be on the other foot. Louis deserved to have a really good day, Harry just hoped he would want to spend it with him. 

And it’s different now, this is the first time they’ll be alone together for a while with no distractions. There’s pressure to impress him with words, not just actions like Liam suggested. What if Louis thinks he’s annoying or boring? 

He’s in the middle of debating whether or not to throw everything out and forget about it when Louis walks through the door. He smiles at Harry as he walks in, placing his clothes down on the bed and turning to face him. 

“Where are Liam and Niall?” 

He hears Louis’ breath get shorter the closer Harry steps to him. 

“I’ve no idea where Liam’s gone, but Niall’s out for the day. Said Liam probably would be, too.” 

Louis looks down as he nods his head, swallowing hard. Harry can see the corners of his mouth turn up just barely from where he’s standing. He steps closer anyway. 

“So, I was thinking we could hang out.”

_ There _ , he thinks. Now it’s out in the open. Louis can reject or accept. Harry tries not to hold his breath, but it catches in his throat anyway when Louis runs forward and wraps his arms around Harry’s neck. 

It makes him laugh, feeling Louis’ big smile against the fabric of his tee shirt and his arms stretched around his chest. He’d stumbled back at first, but Louis’ grip stays firm. 

“What did you want to do?” Harry asks, swaying them slightly back and forth. 

Louis just shrugs and squeezes him tighter, and Harry thinks he hears a soft  _ anything _ but he can’t be sure. 

“I may have, uh, planned something already,” when Louis looks up at him startled, he quickly adds, “If that’s alright.” 

“Yes.” 

With that, he grabs Louis’ hand and leads him over to the chair, telling him to face the wall and wait for him to come back and get him. Glancing subtly out the window to check and see if the courtyard is crowded, Harry shuts the curtains before Louis can tell what he was doing. He grabs the bag of food, flowers, and his computer, then snatches the throw off of the end of the bed while he’s thinking about it. 

The plan was to wait until much later, when the sun made everything golden and warm, but Harry’s much too excited to wait now. The food would get cold, anyway. 

The lift is full when he makes it down the hallway, so he opts for the stairs, taking two at a time. It gets him there quicker than he thought, and he double checks that Liam and Niall aren’t around before he steps out fully into the lobby. Luckily, the man behind the counter doesn’t look up to notice Harry planning to use one of their nice throws as a picnic blanket. 

Quiet and warm, the open space is still as peaceful as Harry hoped it would be when he sets out their things. He finds a space near one of the edges to set everything up so no one will interfere with it while he goes back up to get Louis from their room. It all looks slightly out of place when Harry stands back to observe his work, but it feels right so he leaves it and makes his way back up the stairwell. 

Louis’ still waiting patiently in the chair when he comes back in, but he turns to look at him over his shoulder at the sound of the door closing. 

“Ready?” 

Before he can think about it, he slings his camera over his arm, too. 

When they reach the entrance to the courtyard, Harry covers Louis’ eyes with his hands and walks him out to their spot, tripping twice over their tangled legs. 

“If you walk me into something, Harry, I swear -” 

Louis cuts himself off with a gasp when he removes his fingers, standing perfectly still. 

“If you don’t like it, we can just go back up, it’s okay.” 

There are lips on his before Harry can even finish talking. Soft and inviting, he leans into Louis’ touch as he’s pulled backward onto the blanket. They sit down, Louis sliding over until their knees are touching, and smile at each other. 

Harry’s a bit worried that the food choice is going to ruin the mood, but when he pulls their burgers out of the bag, Louis practically moans, grabbing it from him and kissing him on the cheek before moving to eat it. 

“This is so  _ good _ ,” he takes a large bite, “thank you.” 

His heart’s pounding loudly in his ears, but he grins at Louis anyway and bites into his own, setting out the fries and handing Louis his milkshake. Fortunately, nothing had gone cold in the time it took for him to set up, and he savors the hot food on his tongue. When he glances over again, Louis’ smiling at him. 

“What?” Harry wipes at his lips. 

“Nothing,” Louis chuckles, “it’s just - you stick out your tongue before you take a bite. ‘S cute.” 

He bends down to hide his face from Harry, stuffing a few fries into his mouth and clearing his throat. Harry doesn’t even bother trying to cover the pink he can feel rising up again on his cheeks. 

There’s still a small part of him that wants to promise Louis anything he wants. It’s actually a very large part of him. The words are on the tip of his tongue, they threaten to come out every time Louis’ eyes meet his. He also doesn’t want to scare him off though, and Harry has a suspicion that pushing any further than an impromptu picnic date will have severe setbacks in their - whatever  _ this _ is. 

It’s not a relationship, at least not yet, but it could be. Harry is more than willing to try, but he’s letting Louis take the controls on this one. He’d be damned if he let him get away because his little crush made things weird. 

Sure, Louis seems to like him a whole lot more now and he doesn’t actively avoid him like before. He’d even let Harry give him his first sexual experience, and even though Harry wasn’t drunk then, he still wasn’t really sure if it’d been a get-it-out-of-the-way-type thing or an I-really-like-you-type thing. 

“Where did you even go to get all of this stuff?” 

Louis’ still only halfway through his burger when Harry looks up from his own, swallowing so he can answer him. 

“Uhm, I got the flowers from the shop right next to the hotel, and the lady inside said that there was a place I could get food just a bit down,” he looks around, “oh, and I got the blanket from the hotel room.” 

Louis throws his head back and laughs, but it doesn’t even seem like he found it that funny. It seems more like, to Harry at least, that he’s laughing because he’s just  _ happy _ . Happy Louis isn’t something that he gets to see often, if ever. And if he does, it’s because someone else made him that way and not Harry. 

It’s amazing. 

The sun had shifted over the roof of the hotel, casting it’s light directly onto their layout in the corner of the courtyard. From his seat on the plush blanket, Harry can see the slight freckles that cover Louis’ nose and cheeks, the way he swallows before and after every bite he takes. When he notices Harry staring and turns to say something, the light hits his eyes and Harry thinks he looks somewhat ethereal. 

“Do you mind if I…” Harry gestures to his camera. 

“Oh,” Louis blushes and straightens himself, “If you want, yeah. I probably look awful.” 

Harry pretends like he didn’t hear him and brings the viewfinder up to his eye anyway, focusing the shot on Louis and just admiring him for a moment while he adjusts his fringe and pulls at his shirt. When he’s ready, Harry takes the picture. 

It takes him another few minutes to finish his food, sitting criss-cross and facing Harry when he’s done. He still seems to be having a good time, but Harry asks him anyway. 

“Do you want to go back up?” 

“No,” Louis’ saying before he’s even gotten the words out, then, “Just a little longer, please?” 

Harry chases the last of his food with his strawberry milkshake to hide his excitement and nods. 

“As long as you want.” 

Over the next two hours, Harry takes his time learning all that he can about Louis. 

He learns that his favorite color is red, his all time favorite band is  _ The Fray  _ (by some magical coincidence, they were at the very same concert only a few years back), and that he loves his family more than anything else in the world. Harry does his best to memorize all of it. 

Louis lets him talk, too, but Harry thinks he’s infinitely more interesting. 

They pull out Harry’s laptop to watch a movie next, but Louis just ends up putting on Great British Bake-Off, scrolling down to find the episode he’d left off on. 

“Is this okay?” 

“Yeah,” Harry laughs, “‘S great.” 

He’s already seen each episode at least three times, and he admittedly feels very  _ english _ in that moment, but he leaves it on because Louis loves it. He’s fairly certain Louis’ seen them all that many times, too, as he mouths some of the catch phrases along with the contestants. Harry just grins and tries to focus on the screen. 

When it starts to get dark out around them, Harry lays down on the blanket to stare up at the sky. It’s cooler now, much more comfortable than the direct sunlight from earlier, but he’s tense as he waits to see if Louis lays down as well. 

He does, eventually, move their trash away and situate himself on his side next to him, with his head resting hesitantly on Harry’s chest. Harry doesn’t say a word. It takes a minute for him to get comfortable, shifting around on the grass, but when Harry puts an arm around his shoulders he stills immediately. 

“I’m glad you liked all of this,” Harry starts, “I wasn’t sure if you would.” 

He feels Louis rub his cheek into the fabric of his tee shirt. 

“I loved it, really. Thank you.” 

Harry runs his fingers over the small hairs on Louis’ arm, feeling them rise under his hand. 

“Do you still feel like no one’s missing you?” 

The question feels out of place, like it’s going to scare Louis away, but he answers him much quicker than Harry expected. 

“I-,” Louis purses his lips thoughtfully, “I don’t think so. It was just a bad night. I know that they love me.” 

Louis throws up his shoulder at the end as if to downplay the sincerity of his words, and Harry frowns. 

“Of course they do, Lou. They know you have to be away for a while in order to provide for them. They aren’t angry, you guys just have seen each other in so long that you aren’t as emotionally connected.” 

There’s a small nod, then a sigh from the boy on his chest. 

“I know that. I just wish that I could do both. Be there for them and be able to do what I want to do.” 

That’s the first time Louis’ mentioned what  _ he _ wants, Harry thinks. He wants to say something about his mother, about how proud she would be to see her son working so hard for their family, but he keeps his mouth shut. Hopefully, he’ll be able to say that to him when they’re closer. 

“So, what is it that you want to do?” 

Louis laughs like the question is unexpected, “Oh, I wanted to be a teacher.” 

“Really? What would you teach?” 

He’d expected several things, but teaching hadn’t been one of them. Now that he thinks about it though, Louis would make a fantastic teacher. 

“I’m not sure,” he fidgets, “probably drama or something like that. I want to teach either younger kids or, like, teenagers.” 

“Why don’t you? You’d be so good at that.”

He shifts under Harry’s gaze. 

“I don’t know,” he waves a hand, “it doesn’t really matter anyway, since it doesn’t make enough money to send home.” 

For a second time over the last few hours, Harry wants to offer him everything he’s got even though they don’t even know each other that well. Harry’s so grateful for what he has and he wishes he could share it all with Louis, but he can’t think of a way to say  _ move in with me _ or  _ I’ll send some of my money to your family _ without making him sound like he’s a charity case or Harry’s just insane. 

“That’s not fair to you, Louis. You’re working so hard to make them happy but you’re miserable,” he strokes a hand over the hair on his forehead, “you’d be such a great teacher. You should look into it when we get back.” 

He finishes the speech quietly, hoping Louis won’t hate him for giving his opinion. It’s not any of his business, really, but he feels like Louis needs to hear it. 

Instead of yelling at him, Louis just shrinks even more into his chest with a small smile and rosy cheeks, flicking his gaze up to meet Harry’s eyes every few seconds. 

“You’re always so good with words,” is what he says. 

“You think so?,” Harry asks slowly, “I feel like people are tired by the time I finish a sentence.” 

He laughs tersely but Louis shakes his head. 

“You are. You always know what to say.” 

Harry considers mentioning the fact that up until now Louis never wanted to hear  _ anything _ that came from Harry, but he stays quiet. 

“I wish I could do that,” Louis adds. 

Humming, Harry pulls him tighter to his chest in response. He’s not sure if Louis feels better or if he’s just really good at changing the subject, but either way he smiles wide and rubs his chin over Louis’ soft hair.

They look up just in time to catch what Harry thinks is a shooting star, but Louis hits his chest fondly with a grin when he points it out. 

“That’s a plane, you loon.” 

In a moment of optimism and as subtly as he can, Harry reaches over toward where he’d tossed his phone and opens up Louis’ playlist. He adds  _ Mine Right Now _ by Sigrid and then throws it back to it’s spot. 

He points out pictures in the stars with Louis until his voice begins to fade and he can tell Louis’ eyes are fluttering closed. Gently, he moves out from under him and shifts so that they can be face to face. Louis’ eyes are still shut, but he’s not asleep. Harry brushes his hair back with his hand impulsively, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead and enjoying the last few moments he has alone with him before they go back to pretending. 

——

The room is suspiciously quiet when Harry opens the door, letting Louis slide in in front of him. And then, again, they’re met with Liam and Niall passed out on one of the beds, a laptop frozen on the Netflix logo in front of them while they sleep. 

Harry doesn’t waste any time putting away their things, plugging his laptop back in and putting the blanket back at the bottom of the bed, setting his camera on the dresser. 

Louis’ mouth turns up on one side as he moves to face him, his hands hidden away inside of his sweater as he bounces on his feet in front of Harry. Harry grins, taking Louis’ wrist and pulling him over to the other bed. He changes silently into his sleep clothes while Louis does the same across from him in the dark. 

They slide under the sheets at the same time, already breathless and shifting closer to each other with big smiles on their faces. 

The last time they had to share a bed, Harry was much more irritated and a whole lot less aroused than he is now. Him and Louis weren’t close then, and he’d been uncomfortable during the night. He has a feeling that sharing a bed tonight would mean something much different. 

With his hand, Harry feels around for the curve of Louis’ cheek as his eyes adjust to the dark. Even the bathroom light had been left off tonight, and Harry wonders if their friends planned it that way on purpose. He can hear them snoring though, so him and Louis are safe for now. 

Stroking his thumb along the outline of Louis’ lips as he leans forward, Harry presses them against his own. It never fails to amaze Harry, the way that their mouths fit perfectly together. He still isn’t able to fully comprehend that he gets to have Louis like this in the first place, much less the fact that they clicked so well together. 

He pulls away from Louis’ lips and put them right next to his ear. 

“Flip on your side for me,” he whispers. 

He means to pose it as a question, but it comes out more like a demand. Harry doesn’t think Louis minds all that much. 

Louis does as he’s told, turning onto his side to face the other bed and letting Harry drag him back into his chest. The hairs on his neck stand as Harry noses at them, burying his face into Louis and sighing. 

Trying not to rush, he places wet kisses to the skin that’s in front of his mouth, but eventually allows his hands to start exploring. 

They’re used to kissing and getting themselves off, but Harry wants to take his time now. It feels right, in complete darkness, with their friends in the bed next to them, to take things slow and silent. He hopes Louis will catch on. 

The tips of Harry’s fingers slide down Louis’ side, over the dip of his hips and the hem of his shirt, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the exposed skin. Pushing it up in small increments, he revels in the way Louis’ breathing falters and watches him bite his lip. 

The further his hand moves up the fabric, the more smooth skin he can feel and the harder his cock presses against Louis’ back. When he reaches them, Harry takes Louis’ nipple into his fingers and rolls it, pinching as it grows hard under his fingers. He can tell Louis’ having a hard time keeping in his noises, but luckily he hasn’t made a sound yet besides his heavy panting. 

Louis’ hips began to roll back into Harry’s on their own, and Harry hisses at the friction, pushing a hand down to lower his sweats and get closer to him. He leaves on Louis’ shirt, but grabs his face again to tilt it back into his reach. He moves his lips over Louis’ to distract him so that he can rest a firm hand over Louis’ growing bulge. 

At his movement, Louis lets out a whimper and Harry shushes him by kissing him even harder. From their other moments together, he knows that Louis tends to get overwhelmed easily, starts making these adorable, breathy, whimpering sounds that Harry’s pretty sure he could record and listen to on repeat for the rest of his life. 

He still keeps one eye on the other side of the room, waiting for any sign of movement or noise from the others. Luckily, their loud snores seem to have drowned out Louis’ noises and Harry puts his focus back on kissing him. 

The hand he’s got on Louis starts moving slightly, just a soft up and down of his palm on the outside of his pajama pants, and Harry knows the pressure probably feels divine on his cock. Louis always gets excited so quickly, is so eager to pleasure and be pleasured, and it makes him feel amazing knowing that he does that to him. 

He swallows more of Louis’ whines as they spill into his mouth, pressing down harder on his erection through the flannel. Just as he’s about to reach his hand inside to touch Louis properly, there’s a creaking from the other side of the room. 

Harry and Louis freeze, covered mostly by the thin sheets but still exposed enough to be caught in a very compromising position if someone decided to turn on a light. 

Niall sniffs loudly, mumbling to himself as he stumbles into the bathroom, not even bothering to turn on the light or flush, and then falls back into bed facing away from them. Hopefully, Harry thinks, he managed to aim correctly. 

He can feel Louis relax against him once again, letting out a puff of laughter against the side of his face. He presses his own smile into the skin of Louis’ cheek. 

He wants to laugh at the circumstance, but he’s still painfully hard inside of his boxers. Louis’ still working his hips backwards and forwards between him and his hand, reaching back to grab Harry by the neck and pull him forward. Their lips stay apart, breathing into each other’s mouths with their foreheads pressed together. Just barely, Harry can make out Louis’ eyes looking into his own. He nudges their noses together and finally puts his hand where he knows Louis needs him most. 

Head thrown back against the pillows, Louis’ face contorts as he rolls his lips together to keep any noise from coming out. He’s so  _ good _ . 

Harry tells him so, running his tongue along the shell of his ear before pulling him close, whispering  _ good boy _ into his ear until Louis sounds so choked up that his lip quivers and his hips stutter in his hand. 

He grips him harder, pulling him even closer to his body so that Louis’ completely pressed against him, and Harry uses his other hand to push down the back of Louis’ track pants. He pushes his own boxers aside, sliding his cock into the warm heat of Louis’ bum. 

Louis seems to understand, pushing back and forth with a renewed vigor, letting Harry slide in and out of the line of his cheeks through the thin material of his boxers as he uses Harry’s hand to get himself off. 

The air conditioner in the room decides to shut off then, leaving the space around them even quieter than it was before. Niall’s started wheezing in his sleep again, but that only allows them so much time to exhale in between strokes. 

“Getting close for me, hm?” Harry whispers, trying even harder to be quiet, “Gotta be real quiet, baby.” 

Louis thrashes in his grip, his chest rising and falling in a chaotic rhythm as he gets closer. 

Harry uses his other hand to work himself over, his fist sliding over his cock quickly. In the process, his knuckles brush over Louis’ hole through his boxers, and he feels him tense up, moaning loudly at the feeling. 

Harry slaps a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, and then Louis’ coming. 

Groaning inside of his head, Harry follows after him with a few more pulls, only a handful of seconds after Louis’ done trembling from his own release. He’s still slightly shaking when Harry comes down, blinking his eyes hazily down at Louis and taking his hand away from his mouth. 

Louis just looks over his shoulder at him, dazed, with his eyebrows pulled together like he’s upset. 

Harry starts to panic, but then Louis’ pulling his mouth down to his. 

“Thank you,” he whispers shakily, “thank you.” 

He presses his lips down harder into Louis’, taking his face in his hands and hovering on top of him. Their bodies are covered in their cum and sweat, but Harry hopes it stays on his skin long enough that he’ll still feel it when he gets back home to his new, empty flat. 

——

The worst day of the trip starts out like any other day. Or at least the other days this week. 

Harry wakes first, as he usually does, still pressed tightly against Louis on the bed from the night before. He stretches and snuggles his face further into Louis’ neck, smiling dopily as he presses his lips there. Louis shifts in his sleep, moving back into Harry before his breathing evens out again. 

Then, with an anxious catch of his breath, Harry remembers where they are. He freezes as he cracks one eye open, looking around for their friends. 

Liam’s nowhere to be found, and Niall’s standing at the counter making tea. He’s facing away from them and Harry thinks about slipping out of bed quietly before he turns around. But where would he go? The bathroom, right next to where Niall is standing?  _ No _ , he thinks,  _ that won’t work.  _

Just as Harry’s about to try easing a leg out on the other side of the bed, Niall grabs his cup of tea from the machine and takes it out into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

He exhales, relaxing back into Louis for a few minutes before getting up to get dressed before Niall comes back in. Louis makes a small sound of complaint, but settles down again when Harry smiles and covers him back up with the blanket, kissing the top of his head. 

Today on Liam’s list is  _ Bar _ . The rest of them still have no idea what that means, but Harry thinks he’s prepared for almost anything at this point. All he knows is that they’re to be there at six o’clock, sharp. 

_ Not a minute late _ , Liam had reminded them last night, frantically folding and re-folding the clothes in his suitcase. Whatever he had planned for tonight seemed to be extremely important to him. Harry walks to the bathroom sleepily and turns on the shower. 

Yesterday still hadn’t fully registered in his brain. 

Talking to Louis still makes him feel like the most important person on earth, and Louis seemed like he’d had a great time, too. He’d never heard Louis actually talk before. Like,  _ really _ talk. Not about things that mattered to him, at least. It was nice to hear him be so genuine and honest and not hurt Harry’s feelings like when they were at that bar in Vegas or literally any other interaction with him before now. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how lucky he’s gotten. 

He hasn’t spoken to Gemma since their phone call last week, only answering when his mum’s picture pops up on his screen. If he only gets to have Louis for another two weeks or so, he’s not going to waste it hearing all about how Louis doesn’t like him and never will. He’s been telling himself that for years on his own, so Gemma’s warning is a bit redundant. 

The clock reads two thirty when Harry’s done showering, and he’s surprised that they slept for that long. Then again, he also isn’t sure what time they actually fell asleep last night. 

“Louis,” he tries, shaking his shoulder gently. 

He lays completely still under the covers, unaffected by Harry’s movements. 

“Lou, c’mon.” 

He tries again, but Louis’ eyes remain shut. 

Eventually, Harry sighs and swings a leg onto the bed, straddling his waist. He smirks as he pulls the covers down, reaching his hands up to touch him. 

At being tickled, Louis bolts up immediately, hands flying back and forth to get Harry’s fingers off of him. Harry laughs. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

Louis groans in response, throwing an arm up to shield his eyes from the light. 

“I thought you might like to have a shower before we have to leave in three hours. You’re welcome.” 

“Thank you,” he mumbles quietly into Harry’s hand. 

He wiggles out from under him and grabs some random clothes from his suitcase next to the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fist. Harry watches him all the way until the bathroom door closes. 

His camera jostles inside of his luggage, and he picks it up to look at the shot of Louis from the night before. 

It’s -  _ wow _ . Harry was expecting to like it a lot, he’d thought that Louis was beautiful for a very long time, but this photo is better than he imagined. 

His hair is sticking up in one spot and his face is flushed, tense from knowing his photo’s about to be taken. There might also be a small piece of lettuce from their burgers on his cheek as well. But the light’s hitting his eyes just right and the color of the shirt he’s got on brings out the warm tones of his skin perfectly. Long eyelashes and sharp cheekbones frame his face, and his expression reads something between bashful and surprisingly confident. He’s  _ glowing _ . And the thing is, it doesn’t even do the real-life Louis justice. 

It’s all he can do to set it back down and add  _ I Want it _ All by COIN to Louis’ playlist. He turns off the camera and makes a mental note to go and get  _ several _ prints made. 

While he’s showering, Harry tries to pick out an outfit for the night. It doesn’t take him long to decide on a more casual look, and he picks out a soft grey tee shirt and black jeans to slide into. As he goes to lift his shirt over his head, Liam walks back through the door. 

“Hey, Li.” 

His eyes focus on Harry, walking over to him and grabbing both of his arms tightly. Harry looks at him, confused. 

“I need your help,” is all Liam says, quietly and through clenched teeth. 

“Okay, sure. What do you need.” 

Liam releases his arms to run his hand through his hair, which Harry notices now looks like he’s already done that a million times today. 

The way he’s acting would make someone think that Liam had just murdered someone, but Harry knows that he’s like this when he’s stressed. But Liam hardly ever associates himself with something stressful on purpose. Today, it appears he’s planned it right into their schedule. Liam takes a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. 

“I have no idea what to wear.” 

Harry tries not to laugh at him. 

“O- _ kay _ ,” he drawls, “what are you going for? Casual, posh, sporty?” 

“You’re not going to ask me why I’m freaking out?” 

He seems deceptively calm as he stares Harry down, suspicious and still breathing hard. 

“No,” Harry shakes his head and sticks out his bottom lip. 

A bit deflated, Liam moves behind him to get to his own luggage, digging through it and lifting out random pieces before throwing them back down. 

“That’s the problem. I don’t know  _ what _ I’m going for. I just want - I need to look good.” 

“We can make that happen.” 

In the fifteen minutes it takes Louis to come out of the bathroom after his shower, they’ve made good progress. 

Liam’s fists have unclenched and his eyes have returned to their normal size. He’s nodding appreciatively as he turns in the full length mirror, analyzing the outfit Harry’s picked out for him. 

It’d been admittedly harder than he thought, but he’d thrown together some pieces from each of their suitcases, testing out combinations to find out which ones looked best together. All in all, Harry is very pleased with himself. 

“I look,” Liam pauses to let out an incredulous laugh, “I look  _ good _ .” 

He hugs Harry, throwing his hands tight around his neck. Harry huffs and falls a few steps back, but grabs on tight to the back of Liam’s shirt to hug him back. 

“Damn, Li,” Louis passes them on his way to his bed, “what’s the occasion?” 

Liam only blushes in response, adjusting the collar of the jacket Harry loaned him and pulling down his sleeves. After another glance in the mirror, he turns to point a finger at Louis. 

“You better be ready to leave by five thirty.”

Louis huffs, sitting upright. 

“What? You said six!” 

“No, I said we need to  _ be there _ at six.” He turns to Harry next, “Don’t let him make us late.” 

Harry salutes him as he walks to the door, phone in hand. 

“Oh, and make sure Niall’s ready, too, yeah?” 

Harry hears Louis groan all the way from the other side of the room. 

——

They’re parked and ready to go in at five fifty-seven. Louis had, as Liam suspected, made them very close to being late, fussing with his hair for a good thirty minutes in the hotel mirror before deeming it nice enough to leave. 

Niall’s already got a hand on the door handle, but Liam’s frozen in the front seat. Harry licks his lips and turns to the others. 

“Give us a sec?” 

Thankfully, Louis seems to understand and tells Niall to shut up when he starts to complain, dragging him from the car and telling Harry he can meet them inside. Once they’re alone, he leans up on the middle console to talk to Liam. 

“Li, I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re so worked up but I promise you everything’s going to be fine. Okay?” 

Liam doesn’t do much but give a curt nod, facing the building in front of them. Harry tries again. 

“I mean it. Whatever - or  _ who _ ever,” Liam flips around to stare at him, “will be fine.”

He still seems unconvinced, but he leans over to give Harry an awkward half-hug anyway. 

“Thanks, Haz.” 

Harry smiles encouragingly, glancing at the brightly colored  _ 6:00 _ on the dashboard. 

“You look amazing, Liam. Go get ‘em.” 

The bar isn’t too crowded yet, with only a few people sitting around at the tables. He spots Louis and Niall fairly quickly, pushing Liam to go get a drink to settle himself down. 

“Alright?” 

“Yeah,” he answers Louis, “he’ll be fine.” 

Niall doesn’t ask any questions, just leans forward every few minutes to check the door. Louis eyes him warily but shakes his head. 

“Do you want anything to drink? I’m going to get a water.” 

The chime on the door goes off. 

As Louis moves to stand up, Niall grabs his arm to pull him back down. 

“I don’t think you should go to the bar right now.” 

Harry furrows his brows and looks over to where he left Liam. He’s still standing there, waiting on his drink, but there’s someone walking toward him. He doesn’t notice them until they’re behind him and Harry thinks offhandedly that his very straight friend is about to get hit on by another guy, but then he taps him on the shoulder and Liam’s burying his face into the guy’s neck. 

Harry’d figured before that it might be a person he was meeting, maybe a nice girl he’d been chatting to online and lived in the area, but  _ this _ \- he never would’ve guessed. 

He hears Louis gasp at the same time he does, watching Liam talk to him. Niall only sits back in the booth, smiling wide. 

Quietly, as if he doesn’t want to disrupt them, and without moving his eyes away, Louis whispers, “Who is that?” 

“ _ That _ ,” Niall smirks, “is Zayn.” 

——

The surprise hasn’t quite worn off yet by the time Liam walks over to their table. 

Two hours have passed by, trying to not be obvious as they watch the scene across the bar with open mouths. Liam hasn’t checked once to see if they were looking and they hadn’t wanted to rush him, but now he’s leading the guy,  _ Zayn _ , over to them while they try to act nonchalant. Well, Louis and Harry do. Niall just keeps on grinning. 

“Guys, this is Zayn,” Liam smiles bashfully, “He said there’s a party tonight, at his. He was wondering if we want to check it out.” 

Seeming slightly frantic, Liam flits his eyes to each of them around the table. 

“Of course! A party’s a party, ain’t it?” 

Niall jumps up to shake his hand, introducing himself. 

“Yeah, I’m in,” Louis says, “Harry?” 

All of their eyes are on him, but he catches Liam’s gaze first. He’s waiting for Harry’s reaction, his  _ approval _ , Harry thinks, and he shifts his legs out of the booth to stand up. 

“I’d love to. It’s nice to meet you,” he extends his hand, “Zayn, yeah?” 

He sees Liam sag with relief from the corner of his eye as he firmly shakes his hand. 

“Yeah, Zayn. You’re Harry, right?” 

Harry nods, not stopping to think about how Liam probably told Zayn that he was his best friend ahead of time. His heart swells with pride. 

They all pile into the van to go to the party, Liam politely telling them he’s going to ride with Zayn and walking off, bumping their shoulders together. 

“Oh, my God,” Louis says after he shuts the door. 

“I know,” Harry agrees. “Niall, did you know about this?” 

Niall just shrugs. 

“I know everything.” 

Harry pretends that he’s just imagining Niall’s gaze focusing on him in the rearview as he smiles, backing out of the parking lot, but his stare is hard to ignore. 

It’s a bit of a wild ride with Niall driving, but they pull up shortly after Zayn and Liam do. There’s no one there yet, but Zayn assures them that the guests will be there soon. 

Harry waits for the inevitable awkwardness but it never comes. Liam and Zayn talk like they’ve known each other for years, wonders if maybe they have, and Niall fits right in, making jokes and poking fun at Liam’s embarrassed look. He and Louis try to contribute, but Harry thinks they’re still in a bit of shock. They just listen as Zayn tells them about himself. 

When the doorbell starts to ring and people begin mingling in the living room, Harry waits until there’s too many people to hear Louis properly before he nods at him toward the back of the room. 

He’s got a drink in his hand that Niall handed him earlier, but he’s only taken a few sips. He had a drink at the bar already, anyway. He leaves it abandoned on the nearest table and meets up with Louis at the back. 

Pressed close to a wall in the dining room, Louis grabs his hand when he notices him and pulls him upstairs. There’s a determined glint in his eye, but Harry doesn’t linger on it. 

All of this is reminiscent of his uni days, and he’s sure Louis is feeling it, too. Zayn’s great and he’s so happy for Liam, but Harry’s at a point in his life now where being at a house party makes him feel claustrophobic and out of place. 

He presses in closer to Louis as he opens several doors, stopping when he finds what looks to be a guest bedroom with a large balcony. 

Louis goes to open the curtains and cracks the doors for some air, returning to Harry on the bed when he’s done. Harry isn’t sure why he brought them up here, but it’s definitely nicer than the nauseating noise of the party going on underneath them. 

The lights are off in the room, but the open door allows some of the moonlight to peek in and cover Louis’ skin. He’s shivering in Harry’s hold from the wind, gripping onto his arms while he snuggles backward. 

“So, Zayn, huh?” 

“Yep,” Harry nods, “Zayn.” 

“How long do you think they’ve known each other?” 

He mulls it over in his head. 

“I’m not sure. They could’ve been talking on the phone, but we can ask Niall later. I’m sure he’ll tell us if we bribe him with food.” 

They both chuckle. 

“I’m glad we aren’t down there.” 

“Me, too,” he noses at the top of Louis’ head, “I’d much rather be up here with you.” 

Louis lets out an unbelieving laugh and shakes his head, crossing a leg over Harry’s. 

“What?” 

“It’s just that, like, a few months ago you would’ve been down there partying with them.”

Harry stiffens. Louis apparently doesn’t notice. 

“Dancing, drinking, making everybody want you like you do.” 

Something in his tone doesn’t sit well with Harry and he loosens his arms from Louis’ waist, scooting back to look at his face. His mind flashes back to the bar. 

“What’s your point, Louis?” 

At the use of his whole name, Louis turns to face him, sitting up straight. 

“No, I didn’t mean it like - I just mean that this is better than that, that’s all.” 

“And you wouldn’t have been doing the same thing?” 

Louis gulps and shifts to the edge of the bed, standing up and walking away from him like he plans to avoid any confrontation. 

Harry follows him outside, footsteps falling closely behind Louis’ fast, irritated ones as he walks toward the balcony. This is the second time he’s said something like that to him and he’s not about to sit back and take it. No matter what Gemma may think, Harry is very much capable of standing up for himself when he feels its necessary. 

“You know, I really don’t even know why you hated me so much. I’ve never done a thing to you, Louis, and you’ve only ever treated me like shit. Why?” 

If Louis’ going to bring up his past, Harry’s going to do the same. He’s genuinely upset now, not like anytime Louis has seen him previously. His eyes narrow on Louis, face twisted up in a confused grimace as he stares at him. He sees Louis’ mouth open and close as his forehead wrinkles, unsure of how to approach the uncomfortable subject. 

“Well?” Harry crosses his arms. 

It’s cold on the balcony, much colder than he'd anticipated, and he notices Louis shivering again despite his red cheeks and Harry’s heated tone. 

“I- I don’t-” Louis shrugs defeatedly, growing embarrassed. 

“No,” Harry raises his voice, “ _ no _ . You do not get to stand there and not tell me why. It may have worked before but I’m not going to sit back and take it anymore, Louis. Not after everything these past few weeks. This isn’t even the first time you’ve brought it up. I proved myself over and over again to you and you still seem to have something against me. So, what? What  _ is _ it?” 

Harry’s stepped closer to him in his outburst and he finds himself thinking about how easy it would be to reach out and touch him, to pull Louis back in and kiss him like he had at the club all those nights ago and all the nights after that. He would, if he thought that this thing they’ve got going was only going to last for two more weeks, but he doesn’t believe that. He’s picturing a future with Louis now, but that won’t happen if Louis doesn’t answer his question. 

Harry’s fists clench beside his waist as he breathes in and out through his nose. Louis takes a deep breath, but it does little to calm his shaking. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I hated you, I just -” Louis rushes out, Harry shaking his head as his eyes roll back in disbelief, “it’s hard for me to say.” 

“You never shut up and yet now you can’t find the words? Give me a break, Louis.”

The angrier he gets, the closer he steps to Louis, until he can see his breath hitting Louis’ skin like smoke. He’s aware that he’s getting very angry, maybe even over reacting, but something clicked and now all of the years of Louis mistreating him feel like deep, fresh wounds all over again. 

“Either you tell me now, or I go back inside and we never speak again. We stop this  _ thing _ ,” he gestures loosely between them, “we have going on and go back to the way we were. I mean it, Louis, I’m so damn tired of this.” 

By the end of his sentence, Harry’s voice cracks embarrassingly but he keeps his gaze on Louis. 

Everything is silent for a few moments, and Louis exhales slowly as he moves his gaze over Harry’s face, parting his lips several times but saying nothing. Harry sighs disappointedly, shakes his head, and turns around to walk back into the party. 

“I like you.” 

He stops with one foot inside and the other still out, glancing over his shoulder.  _ Seriously _ ? He thinks. 

Louis goes on. 

“I- That’s why it was hard for me to tell you.” 

“If you liked me,” Harry pauses thoughtfully, “why would you treat me like I’m the worst person you’ve ever met for almost the entire time we’ve known each other.” The question sounds more like a statement, and it has Louis squirming against the railing of the balcony. 

“I had a friend in my first year classes. She, um, she was chatting to you for a few months or so I think, and you- you slept with her and made her feel special and then cheated on her. She was heartbroken. She didn’t even know what she’d done. And - and then I heard that you did that to others, too.” 

Louis’ voice had faded into a small murmur by the end of his sentence, as if realizing that he has no actual proof and is only making Harry even more angry with him. 

“Louis?” Harry says quietly. 

“Yeah?” 

Harry shakes his head,“She cheated on  _ me _ . She cheated on me  _ on my birthday _ . And then she came to me after I caught them together and asked to get back together, which happened to be on the night my step-father passed away, by the way, and got angry when I asked her politely to leave me alone. I headed straight home for the funeral and by the time I came back to school she’d spread rumours about all of these horrible things that I didn’t do, and then left so I couldn’t make people believe otherwise.” 

Harry can feel the way that Louis tensed up all the way from the other side of the balcony, the color draining from his face. 

“And as for all of the  _ others _ that you’ve mentioned previously,” Harry swallows around the lump in his throat, “I don’t sleep with people I’m not dating. No matter what rumours you may have heard. Or spread, I guess.” 

An unamused chuckle leaves his lips as he clenches his jaw. 

“I’m so sorry. I- I should never have judged you like that.” 

That’s nice, but it’s a bit too late. 

He hopes that Louis understands now, just how much his judgment hurts. And after all of this time, this was the reason that he hated him so much? Because of his friend that had hurt  _ him _ , not the other way around? 

Harry doesn’t enjoy playing the victim, and he hadn’t been all that interested in the girl anyway, but that whole thing had definitely hurt his feelings, regardless of if it gave him a reason to finally leave her. 

And to think, he’d been in love with Louis then, too. 

“No. You shouldn’t have,” Harry moves to leave but quickly turns back around in the doorway, pointing his finger accusingly at Louis, “you know, there have been a hell of a lot of rumours about you, too, Louis. And not good ones, either. You may have a reputation for drinking until you’re passed out drunk at random parties all over the city, but you also have one for being a _whore_.”   
Louis’ eyes are wet, and he stands completely still, but Harry isn’t done. 

“I didn’t judge you for any of that, Louis. I wanted to give you the opportunity to show me who you really were, not just what everyone else said about you. But now, you’ve shown me who you really are. Thank you for that.” 

With that, Harry pushes back through the double doors to go back inside, his heavy footfalls echoing throughout the empty corridor and seeming too loud in his own ears. He can hear Louis’ quiet sobs, fading away the more he distances himself. 

Harry can’t even bring himself to feel badly about what he’d said. Not yet, anyway. Tomorrow he would probably have to apologize or explain himself, but tonight he’s going to be angry and feel sorry for himself and forget all about the angry tears swimming in his eyes. Later, he opens up Louis’ playlist and lets the familiar melody of  _ Hope is a Heartache _ lull him into an uncomfortable, dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)


	5. 0.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> denver --> austin --> nashville
> 
> x this chapter does contain a homophobic slur and mentions of a past suicide attempt. it isn't graphic at all, but if it makes you uncomfortable, please skip to the end x

_ Louis _

The next days following the party, Louis is a mess. On Friday he’d had to stop in at several bathrooms around their stops to calm his fast and shaky breathing, rocking back and forth to calm himself, and yesterday he’d almost given up completely and ordered a bottle of wine from the bar downstairs. Today, Louis is still in bed. 

Niall and Liam knew something was up after Harry left early and they found Louis mumbling apologies, cold and asleep with dried tears on his face, on the upstairs balcony where Harry’d left him. They didn't say anything about it, to Louis at least. He doesn’t know what he would have said if they had. 

It’s Monday now, they’re in Austin, Texas, and it’s taken Louis nearly two and a half days to find the courage to approach Harry about what happened on the balcony. Having to apologize is something Louis would typically avoid at all costs, denying their calls and declining their invitations to hang out in an attempt to make himself feel better about whatever he’d done wrong. Now, however, there’s an uncomfortable, heavy weight sitting on his chest that hurts at even the slightest reminder of what happened. 

There’s also the fact that they’re running out of time on this trip, and Louis could potentially be losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

The more dramatic side of him tells him he’s blowing this whole thing out of proportion, and that there’s no apology necessary. But when Louis thinks about it, there’s never been any point in time when Harry had been deliberately rude, mean, or generally unpleasant toward Louis, and everything that Louis held against him happened to be something or other that he’d heard from someone else that didn’t actually know him at all. So, all in all, he figures that there isn’t another option here. 

Louis’ always felt like, while Harry and their friends always had meaning behind their words, Louis just talks. Opens up his mouth and makes sound come out, but there’s no point. Nothing he says has any substance. For the longest time now he’d wanted to change that, but he can’t figure out how. 

The issue isn’t necessarily the apology, but more the fact of getting Harry to hear him out for a minute, if at all. The worst part of it is that he isn’t even avoiding Louis, he’s just going about his day as usual but without the parts that included him. They still ride in the car together, eat together, and go sightseeing together. Louis even had to ask him where the restroom was at one point because he’d been the only one to use it so far and already knew where it was, and Harry had answered him directly, pointing him in the right direction and then continuing to type on his phone. 

It hits Louis when he looks over at him just how codependent he’s become over the last two weeks. Surely that can’t be healthy. 

Before they’d left earlier, Niall had come over and shaken Louis awake. 

“Alright?” 

Louis rubs at his eyes and refuses to meet Niall’s, but gave him a small nod. 

“Look, I don’t want to pry or anything here,” Niall hesitates when Louis tenses, “but whatever happened, just, talk to him, yeah? He’s pretty open minded.” 

Liam comes back in after that, before Louis can answer Niall, and they go off to explore the city. 

The whole thing just feels a lot like a challenge. Like Harry wants to see if Louis will actually step up and apologize, like he thinks he wouldn’t. When he looks at it this way, it’s a little less daunting because it just feels like he’s proving something, and Louis’ great at proving people wrong. 

But then again, that isn’t right either because Louis wants Harry to know that he  _ means _ it. That he isn’t just apologizing to him because it’s awkward to be around him now or because he doesn’t want to deal with it. 

Louis rolls out of bed with a dramatic sigh. 

It turns out Harry went with Niall and Liam, anyway, so he can’t even talk to him if he wanted to. He sort of wishes someone was here right now, but he wants Harry and he can’t have that until he stops being such a baby, so he refuses to let himself sulk. 

His suitcase is open on the floor when he goes to grab a change of clothes, all of the gifts he’d picked up at their stops in a bag to the side of it. Louis slides to the floor and pulls them out, one-by-one. 

The tee shirt comes first, folded neatly at the bottom of the sack, and Louis pulls it out to look at it again. It’s still sort of ugly and it still sort of reminds him of Harry and there’s a sort of ache in his chest when he thinks back to why he bought it. He brings it up to bury his face inside of it. 

Then, Louis realizes, all of his souvenirs and memories from the trip are tied to Harry somehow. The shirt he’d gotten in San Francisco, the magnets and keychain he’d picked up in Vegas, all of it was linked to him. He wishes he’d done it on purpose so that it would hurt less now but he thinks, subconsciously, maybe he  _ had _ done it on purpose. Maybe his happiest memories that he decided were good enough to keep with him were that way because they involved Harry. 

And then, of course, there were all of the pictures Harry’d taken on his camera. Louis sifts through the shots, little polaroid prints smaller than the size of his hand, blurry from the tremors in his arms. The last one is the most recent, a shot of him from the back in front of the canyon last week. 

The tears come by themselves, and Louis didn’t even realize he was crying until the picture he’s holding begins to get wet with them. He sniffs and wipes at his face, but they stubbornly keep falling despite his efforts. With shaky hands and slow breaths, Louis slowly tries to calm himself down. 

He’d spent so much of his adult life hating Harry that he was unsure of what to do when there was no trace of it left. He’s good at being mean, great at hurting people’s feelings and telling them what they didn’t want to hear, and perfect at lowering people’s expectations of him. Harry had never given into his facade. He’d treated him with respect when Louis had been awful to him, and he saw through the routine he’d been perfecting for years. 

If he made himself undesirable enough from the beginning, no one would get close enough to hurt him. That doesn’t excuse his actions by any means, and he still feels terrible about hurting the one person willing to get close enough to give him a chance to prove himself without making his own assumptions. 

Louis puts the picture back into his suitcase and rubs his eyes again with his fists. He’s going to have to get off of the floor eventually, but now is certainly not the time. 

Praying isn’t something Louis did often, if at all. Along with admitting that he needed help. Most of the time, he felt like he could handle things on his own. Occasionally though, he finds himself in need of advice and guidance with no idea of where to go to get it. 

He puts his things away and slides open the door to the balcony. 

His mother was always good at this. At helping him figure out what to do without explicitly telling him, letting him make his own decisions but knowing he had someone in his corner if he needed it. Just like Harry does. 

He looked up at the clouds. It’s been raining all day, and the sun hasn’t peaked out once. 

“Mum,” he starts, eyes watery already, “I need your help.” 

Louis chokes on a sob, his shoulders closing in around him as he shakes. Pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around them on the chair, he tries to calm himself enough to talk to her. 

He mumbles through it, telling his mother all about Harry. Even though he knows she’s not here, Louis feels better just being able to talk about it out loud. 

It makes it feel real, like this whole thing wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispers, quiet enough that it seems like his words get lost somewhere between the harsh raindrops and the cool wind blowing around him. 

This thing that they’d started was bound to end from the very beginning, Louis had already known that. But in his head he pictured finishing out the trip the way they had been, with hand holding and kissing when they could and sneaking away to steal moments together. He pictured a tearful goodbye at the airport before they left to go back to their real lives, with a promise of, at the very least, being friends in the future and keeping in touch. 

“I think,” he stutters, “I think-” 

All of that seems impossible after the last few days. He figures there’s no use in lying, now. With a trembling lip, he turns to face the sky once again. 

“I think I'm in love with him, mum.” 

——

He gets inspired later that night, when Harry goes to shower and Liam and Niall tell him they’ll be gone for a while. Louis nods solemnly, but the longer he sits on the edge of his bed and thinks, the more he hopes that maybe Harry will hear him out. They’d been gone all day, so there’s a chance their friends might’ve convinced Harry to give Louis a chance before completely abandoning him. 

Only ten minutes later, the shower turns off and Louis hears the click of the bathroom door being pushed open. He braces himself, hands twisting up in the sheets beside him. 

Harry simply glances up at him before walking past him to get to his things, doesn’t even hesitate for a second, and goes back to pretending he isn’t here. Louis thinks it hurts more than it probably should. 

“Harry?” He tries. 

The silence that follows stretches long and uncomfortable as Harry pulls on a shirt, zipping up his bag and heading toward the door. 

“Wait, Harry,” Louis’ feet hit the floor in front of the bed, prepared to chase him. 

That doesn’t seem to be necessary as Harry spins around, stepping into Louis’ personal space, his voice sounding similar to when he’d yelled at him the other night. 

“What, Louis? What could you possibly have to say now. Want to insult me some more?” 

“No, Harry,” Louis says, his voice cracking on the last syllable, “I want to apologize.” 

Harry crosses his arms and leans back, as if waiting for Louis to make good on his statement. 

“I’m sorry. And I know that it’s really not enough, just saying it, but I don’t know how else to prove it to you.” 

“You can’t prove it to me, Louis. You hurt me, you’ve been hurting me for four years now. That doesn’t just go away instantly.” 

He gulps. 

“I know that,” Louis scrambles to think of something that will get him to stay, “Would it help if I explained why - why I thought that way?” 

Harry scoffs like it’s the most stupid thing he’s ever heard but waves a hand out anyway, gesturing to Louis to go on with a disinterested expression. 

If he wants to hear the story, Louis will tell him. Hopefully Niall and Liam really will be gone for most of the night, because Louis plans to start from the very beginning. 

***

The real reason that Louis was so hateful toward Harry wasn’t actually entirely because of his friend. That had sounded like a perfect reason at the time and it  _ had  _ made him angry, but the actual story goes a bit deeper than that. 

It had been his first year of uni when he enjoyed his fair share of partying and drinking and the like, and he’d been invited over to a friends house for someone’s birthday. Louis hadn’t known who’s birthday it actually was, but one of his girlfriends was dating one of the guy’s friends. Not that that had been of any importance to him at the time, Louis was only concerned with whether or not there was alcohol involved. Sober was something that he hadn’t felt in a long time at that point in his life. 

Having already taken a few shots and other drinks before they arrived, Louis was thoroughly buzzed by the time his group walked in to the party, and he had to loop arms with the girl next to him so that he didn’t stumble as they made their way through the house. The music was shaking the floor he was walking on and his friends were talking to him but he couldn't make out anything that they were saying. It made Louis feel incredibly dizzy, and he stumbled further into the home until he reached the kitchen, hoping to find either some water or something else to throw back without care and to make the situation even worse for himself. Louis thinks he enjoyed self-sabotage back then. 

His vision was blurring together as he felt around for a counter to lean against and looked around the room. Empty cans and open bags of crisps laid abandoned on the countertops and Louis massaged his temples in an effort to get the pounding feeling out of his head. Once he felt stable enough, he opened up the cabinets behind him and looked for a cup, taking it over to the sink to put some water inside of it. Louis thinks he drank three cups, but it could've been ten by the time they had any effect on him. Still unsteady on his feet, he dragged them across the kitchen and pulled himself up onto the counter, missing a few times before finally managing to get his body on top of it fully. Crossing his ankles, Louis swung his feet back and forth, sat on his hands, and waited for the stars to stop dancing behind his eyelids. 

The door to the kitchen swung open a minute later, and Louis jumped, staring wide-eyed at the person who had just banged the door against the counter, knocking over the cups that had been sitting there. 

“Oh, shit.” The stranger gave a breathless chuckle as he looked down at the mess he’d made and shook his head at himself, moving further into the kitchen. 

Louis watched as his long, lanky legs walked over to the sink and he bent down, drinking the stream of water straight from the faucet. Making a face at his carelessness, Louis pulled his legs up onto the counter with him and sat criss-cross, waiting to see what he would do next. The tall man turned off the water, leaning against the counter opposite Louis as his back rose and fell with his deep, heavy breaths. Louis shuffled around and tried to make some subtle noise, but he doesn’t think the man even noticed. 

“Cup,” the man whispered to himself, lifting his head a bit to look around, “I need a cup.” 

He stalked to each corner, his head falling lower and lower, to the point where he was simply opening the cabinets but looking down at the floor, not even seeing if their were cups inside. Louis huffed out a laugh.  _ Is this what  _ he _ had looked like only fifteen minutes ago?  _ He kept moving closer and closer to him, but Louis didn’t panic, just let him feel around and watched calmly from a distance as he approached. 

Soon enough, Louis was staring down at the stranger’s head from his spot on top of the counter, then at his hand reaching up toward his face, grabbing his nose in the process. Round, green eyes met his in the dim light of the kitchen, and Louis bit his lip as the man screamed loudly at him, slapping Louis in the face. 

In a normal situation, Louis most likely would have slapped him back, or at the very least yelled at him. However, the alcohol was still running through his veins like thick molasses, and although those bright eyes had sobered him up quite a bit, he still wasn’t totally himself. So, Louis laughed. Loudly and without care, with tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, his mouth wide open in a grin. 

That had been the first time he had truly  _ laughed _ since his mother passed the year before. 

The man stood back up and composed himself, and smiled sideways at Louis before reapproaching him. 

“Oops.” He said. 

It took Louis a few minutes to calm down and catch his breath, but he looked back down at him after he wiped his eyes. 

“Hi,” he whispered. 

“I’m sorry I hit you. I didn’t know there was anyone in here.” The stranger hiccuped and smiled at him once again, and Louis found himself staring as his lips stretched further and further across his dimpled face. He was clearly still drunk, but Louis was surprised he could even form a proper sentence, much less apologize to him. 

“That’s okay,” Louis paused and bit his lip, “I’m Louis.” 

“M’ Harry.”  _ Harry _ held out his hand for Louis to shake and Louis looked down at it, and then they were laughing all over again. 

Harry took a few steps back when Louis began wiggling himself off of the counter, turning around to grab another cup from behind him to hand to Harry for water. 

“Oh, thanks.” Harry smiled to himself again and filled it up, leaning back to look at him again. Louis nodded. 

The party was still raging on right outside the door, and he was beginning to feel more steady as he stood and spoke, but the bass was still nauseating to him. Louis crossed his arms and looked down at his feet, hoping for more conversation with the pretty man he’d just met, waiting patiently as Harry downed his glass of water and set it back down into the sink. 

“Great party, huh?” Louis cringed at his attempt to make small talk, but Harry only beamed at him and opened his mouth to respond. His hair had been long then, and he ran a hand through his unruly curls every few minutes. 

“I guess, yeah.” He nodded. 

“Really?” 

“No, not at all,” Harry laughed, “sort of sucks, actually.” 

Louis smiled and looked down, rubbing his eye with his fist and nodding at him. 

“Would you maybe want to like, get out of here? Go get some food or something?” Harry looked nervous now, as Louis glanced up at him with his mouth open slightly, unbelieving of what he was hearing. 

“I- yes. Sure.”

The tall boy stood up, walking back toward the kitchen door. 

“Sweet,” he opened it and turned back to look at Louis, “I have to grab my things and say some goodbyes. I’ll meet you out front in twenty?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.” 

Louis didn’t move from his spot for a good ten minutes, but when he finally realized what had happened he smiled and laughed incredulously, even jumping up and down once to get out his nervous, tipsy energy. He  _ had _ to find the girls and tell them. 

Pushing his way back to where he’d left them, he found Sierra and Brooke on the couch in the living room. He crouched down in front of them, pulling on Brooke’s sleeve. 

“You’ll never believe what just happened,” he started, “I was getting a drink and-” 

Brooke looked down at him, squinting her eyes, “Louis, we’re sort of in the middle of something right now.” 

Louis looked over to the two guys sitting next to them, smiling politely in apology and backing away, looking for his other friend. As he turned away, he heard one of the men talking to Sierra. 

“You’re friends with that fairy?” Louis cringed, listening for their responses as the guys laughed. 

“No, no!” Brooke shook her head. Sierra spoke up next. 

“He just doesn’t have that many friends, so we feel bad sometimes and let him come out with us. Plus, sometimes he does bad things when he’s drinking so we try to look out for him.” 

“Awh, you guys are such good friends.” 

Louis shook his head,  _ look out for him _ ? Once a party had started they never spoke to him again until the next morning when they needed a ride home from someone else’s house. 

“Yeah, but we totally agree, he’s  _ such _ a fairy.” Brooke smiled at them again. 

“Yeah, what a fag.” The other man spoke, and Louis couldn’t listen to anymore. 

He was used to those insults, but not from his friends, or - who he  _ thought _ were his friends. Louis shook his head and went to find Beck, the friend who had driven them to the party and the girl who he considered to be his  _ best _ friend. Surely  _ she _ would be happy for him when he told her about Harry. 

He tried not to get sad, because they had always sort of been like this. They had another personality when they were partying, which is why they’d always kind of split up at the door and gone their separate ways until it was time to go home. But they had known how much Louis longed to have any sort of romantic encounter, and he would have thought they’d have been excited for him, or at least made an exception in their foursome long enough to hear him out. Also, Louis tended to be an emotional drunk. 

He sighed. Tonight hadn’t been any better than all of their other party nights, but at least he had Harry to hang out with now. Maybe he could vent to him while they ate. He’d heard around school that Harry liked boys and girls, so there was a very,  _ very _ small part of him that thought that just maybe Harry had asked him on some kind of date. Perhaps the liquid courage had finally reached his brain. 

Louis checked upstairs and in the hallways, and then in the bathroom before heading back down to check the guest rooms. He apologized when he walked in on several couples, and eventually gave up and decided to just text Beck, walking out to the front porch to wait for Harry while he typed. 

It’d been cold that night, and Louis had shivered as he waited for him to come out. He’d already texted his friend, gotten no response, and was now playing a game on his phone, having found a spot to sit on the concrete near the end of the driveway. It was odd for Beck to go anywhere without her phone. 

He heard couples stumble out of the door, walking past him in their hurry to go absolutely nowhere, but he didn’t bother looking up to see who they were. The chill combined with everything else that had happened that night had him almost completely sobered up, and he was ready to stare at Harry from across the table and fill his stomach with greasy comfort food. 

Louis did turn around when he heard a familiar voice, staying completely still as he listened to Beck talking to someone behind him. He couldn’t make out who the man was because of the darkness, but he knew her voice. 

“C’mon. It’ll only be a minute. I promise. I’ll make it quick, my car is just down the street.” 

She sounded nothing like herself, but there was no mistaking her tone. She had to have been very, very drunk. 

“No, wait, I- I have plans, I can’t-” The man was cut off by what Louis assumed to be Beck’s lips, and Louis dusted off his pants and got up off of the ground, prepared to save his friend from a drunken mistake, and give the man an excuse to leave. When he turned around though, Louis was met with the sight of Beck, tripping drunkenly on the cold concrete, clinging tightly to a black tee shirt, her lips chasing none other than  _ Harry _ . 

He watched silently as Harry fought her off a few times, but eventually just gave in, kissing her back and following her as she pulled him backward to her car before getting in. Louis kicked a rock across the drive and turned around, walking away from the party, away from his friends, and away from his disappointment. His lip quivered, but he refused to let any tears fall. He remembers thinking,  _ See? This is what happens when I get sober. _ He’d known it was too good to be true. The walk home was long, and Louis had to stop in the middle of it to empty whatever was left inside of his stomach as he followed the path illuminated by the street lights. When he reached his flat, he couldn’t even make it to his bed before he fell asleep. 

*

When Louis opened his eyes the next morning, he was just happy that he didn’t have a headache. He rolled over onto his side on their couch in the living room and closed his eyes again, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. 

It hadn’t been long enough for him to fall back asleep before he heard Beck in the kitchen, fumbling around as she made coffee. He listened as she pulled out two cups instead of one. Louis smiled subtly,  _ Beck was making him a coffee? _ Maybe she’d gotten his text and felt bad for abandoning him the night before. He waited, humming along to a song that was stuck in his head and listening to the sound of their drinks being poured. 

“Good morning.” Louis’ eyes shot open and he stared at the wall in front of him. There was no way… 

“Oh, good morning. It’s Harry, right?” Beck handed him a cup. 

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the coffee. It’s much needed.” 

Both of them laughed and sipped their drinks, making awkward small talk in the kitchen before Harry insisted that he get home. 

“I’ve got class in an hour, so I should head out. Take a shower and whatnot.” Louis rolled his eyes.  _ Whatnot _ . 

“Okay, sure, I’ll see you around?” Beck walked him to the door. 

“For sure, I’ll call you.” He could actually  _ hear _ Harry smiling, and he wondered if his dimple was showing like last night, or if he was just faking it for Beck. Either way, Louis couldn’t bring himself to cover his ears no matter how painful this was. 

They lingered in the foyer for a minute, mumbling things that Louis couldn't quite make out, before the door finally shut and he heard Beck make her way back into the house. Louis closed his eyes, fully prepared to pretend to be asleep when she came in to check on him, but she never did. He heard her footsteps pass the door to the living room and walk back upstairs without saying a word to him about last night. 

*

The next time Louis saw Harry was at a bar. It was the month before all of his friends completely abandoned him, and Louis had endured three long months of Harry and Beck seeing each other since the party. Three long months of annoyingly sweet phone calls, late nights stumbling into their flat and waking Louis up in the process, and listening to Beck go on and on about her new beau to him and their friends. Luckily, Louis had managed to stay away when Harry was over, for fear that he might recognize Louis and then he would have to explain to Beck what happened, and she would be upset that he hadn’t told her sooner. Without counting uni, Louis had left the house a total of six times the whole ninety days, three of which had simply been to pick up the mail in his pyjamas and then sneak back upstairs. 

Tonight, Beck had insisted that their original friend group go out and catch up, claiming that they hadn’t seen enough of each other over the past weeks and they would be graduating soon, getting ready for their third year of uni and heading down seperate paths. Unfortunately for Louis, none of their plans included him. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t seen it coming, but he just hadn’t expected it from Beck. 

They were all drinking, but Louis had opted for water, a trend he’d picked up a few months back after the party. He nursed his glass and sipped on it occasionally as the girls gossiped with each other and compared notes on the latest trends, playing with a loose string on his trousers and wishing he could go home, crawl into his bed, and never come out. Brooke cleared her throat and turned to him in their circle booth. 

“So,” she hummed, “What's up with you, Louis? Any juicy gossip? Any update on your love life?” She wiggled her eyebrows. 

“Or lack there-of.” Sierra scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

Louis curled in on himself and shook his head, smiling politely at the girls. There was nothing he wanted to say to them right now. 

He had forgiven them fairly quickly after the party incident, mostly because he was pretty sure they didn’t remember anything from it, but he definitely had his guard up still and was hesitant to tell them anything personal. Beck nudged him from his other side. 

“C’mon, Lou. You haven’t told us anything. There has to be  _ something _ new with you. You used to tell us everything, remember?” 

Louis bit the inside of his cheek and thought about it. He could spin this the right way if he wanted to. Maybe the girls would like him more if he had something new to share. 

“Well,” Louis started, “there was this guy…” 

Sierra turned to look at him with her eyebrows raised, “Seriously?” 

“Yeah.”

“So, what happened? Tell us everything.” Brooke grabbed his arm. 

Louis swallowed and opened his mouth. 

“I- when I went to the kitchen to get water the other night at the party, I met this guy and we like, really hit it off and stuff. We talked and he was nice and asked me to meet him out front to get dinner after and, yeah.” Louis cut himself off, not sure if he was actually willing to lie to them just so they would think he was on their level. 

“And?” Brooke prompted, staring at him intently. “Did you guys, you know?” 

Brooke winked at him and made a suggestive face, but before Louis could tell her that nothing actually happened, Beck was yelling and waving across the bar, and there was Harry. 

Louis’ face paled. _ Please don’t remember me. Please don’t remember me. _

“Hey guys, this is Harry.” Beck smiled and slid over to let him into the booth, “I hope you don’t mind that I texted him to come.” 

The girls laughed as Harry waved. 

“Yeah,” Sierra smirked, “we know.” 

They asked him several slightly inappropriate personal questions and Beck blushed and giggled and they all ignored Louis for the remainder of the conversation. As happy as he was that Harry hadn’t recognized him in front of the girls, he was also simultaneously very sad. He hadn’t thought that Harry had been  _ that _ drunk. Maybe, Louis figured, he was just that forgettable. 

Beck stood up from the booth and asked the girls to go with her to the ladies room, the three of them giggling like school girls as they went. Louis frowned. 

“You’re Beck’s roommate, right?” 

Louis nodded. Harry shook his head and looked down before opening his mouth again. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Harry asked. 

Louis leaned back into the seat, clearing his throat and looking down at his hands and thinking of what to say to make this go away before they came back. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry started again, “I just, you look so familiar but I can’t place you.” 

He still had that sort-of smile on his face, the one where his dimple was just beginning to show up and his eyes crinkled slightly on the sides. The sort of look that proved he had no idea what this was doing to Louis, or who Louis even was at all. 

“No, I don't think you do. We have similar friends though, so.” 

Louis shrugged and Harry seemed to accept his answer, turning back to his drink and opening up his phone. Sierra, Brooke, and Beck came back a few minutes of awkward silence later, seemingly calmer and linking arms with each other as they approached. Harry pocketed his phone and looked up at Beck, smiling and kissing her on the cheek. She sat on the outside when she came back, leaving Harry to scoot into the spot next to Louis.  _ Great _ , he thought. 

They stayed until it got dark outside, and then Louis told everyone that he should get home and finish his studies. Brooke smiled and shook her head as he stood up to leave. 

“What, Brooke?” Louis bit out. He’d just spent the entire night being ignored by them unless he had any gossip, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood to pretend he was okay with that any longer. 

“Oh, nothing. I just have absolutely no idea what happened to you. Normal Louis would have been black out drunk by now. Don’t you want to stay and finish telling us about all those guys you fucked?” She tilted her head, tossing her hair extensions over her shoulder, looking pleased with her exaggeration of Louis’ story. 

The others watched with open mouths, waiting for him to respond. He looked over to Beck and clenched his jaw, shook his head in slight hurt that she hadn’t stood up for him, and walked out into the night once again. 

After that, he didn’t see the girls ever again. He still lived with Beck, but he went right back to avoiding her and Harry at all costs. They didn’t have any classes together, which Louis hated originally but was now immensely grateful for. He stayed curled up in his room in the dark for hours and days at a time, coming out only when he absolutely needed to eat or if he needed the bathroom. 

Beck had come to check on him the first few days, but had stopped after the first week when Louis refused to open the door when she was home. She had been spending more and more time at Harry’s dorm anyway, so they hadn’t actually seen each other in a whole month. Louis was surprised at how little he cared. 

School had ended a few weeks after that, and Louis and Beck sat down to have a conversation about their flat. 

“Do you think we should sign another lease?” She asked. 

“No.” 

And that had been that. Beck was set to move in with Harry sometime over the summer and Louis was looking at other options near the school, digging into his savings and looking for a job to support him. His mother had left all of the money to him to distribute, which he split with his grandparents who were taking care of his siblings while he was away at school. He didn’t want to use that though, and figured he would feel better if he had his own working money so that there would be more for his family. Splitting rent was one thing, but living by himself was turning out to be more expensive than he’d thought. 

He’d gotten a job at a coffee shop down from the campus, at a place he was sure he wouldn’t run into his old friends. They only drank Starbucks or other caffeine that was deemed ‘instagrammable’ by the lot of them. It wasn’t always easy or pleasant, but at least he was making money for himself. It got him out of the flat and made him feel independent, which Louis considered a massive success. 

He came home late one night after cleaning up and closing the shop, kicking off his shoes and locking the door behind him. He froze when he heard sniffling in the living room. Louis was used to having the house to himself, especially at night, and Beck  _ never _ cried. It was one of the things they had in common. 

“Beck?” 

Beck’s eyes shot up to look at Louis from her spot on their couch, covered in tissues and mascara running down her face as she sobbed quietly. Louis frowned and approached the couch cautiously. 

“L-Louis,” she held out her arms and Louis stared at her for a second before sitting down next to her and pulling her into his lap. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

Louis patted her back and shushed her, rocking subtly back and forth as she caught her breath. He waited until she was completely quiet to ask her what happened. 

“I went over to Harry’s to surprise him for his birthday, and he- he was with another girl,” she hiccuped, “He didn’t know I was coming but he gave me a key so that I could come in whenever I wanted, so I used it and he was on his bed and they were, they were-” she cut herself off again, burying her face into Louis’ chest, apparently done with her story. 

“Oh, Beck.” Louis sighed. He hadn’t thought Harry was like that. He’d heard stories, of course, but he liked to believe that he had shown another side of himself in the short time he’d been in Beck and Louis’ life, no matter how much it hurt Louis that it wasn’t him who got to bring it out. 

Louis stroked her hair as she worked herself up again, getting hot tears on his shirt and fisting her hand up in the fabric while she shook in his lap. She explained to him later that night that she would be moving back home and finishing school while living with her parents. When Louis had tried to persuade her otherwise, she wouldn’t hear any of it. He’d thought it was odd at the time that she seemed so adamant about leaving, since she’d always been strong and confident, unafraid to face any person or thing that had caused her pain in the past, but she’d also never had a serious relationship so Louis attributed it to that and moved on. 

He helped her pack up her things and drove her to the airport a few weeks later, and that was the last time he ever saw her. She had texted him that she made it home and then there was radio silence, even when he reached out first. That had been weird, too, but Louis was not as smart as he was now. At least, he liked to think so. 

Looking back, he felt awful about not questioning things more. He saw Harry around campus a few times that year but heard even more stories about him partying, drinking, and sleeping around with everyone he could. Louis thinks that was when he started hating him. How could someone ruin someone’s life so bad that they had to move back home, and gain so much popularity from it? It just didn’t make any sense. He still hadn’t questioned it, though. 

And now he knew Harry. The Harry that was kind, that cracked awful jokes, and that somehow managed to be endearingly gentle and yet rough around all of the edges. The one that somehow knew Louis’ fears like his own and always made sure he was comfortable when he was pushing him outside of his limits. The Harry he’d met that night at the party. When he smiled now it made Louis smile, and he laughed when he laughed. All of those months that he spent hating Harry seemed like wasted time now that he knew what he’d been missing. Every time Liam and Niall had asked him to go out with them and Harry and he’d said no. Every time he’d hidden in his room when Niall knocked on his door with Harry in tow. He had been so close the entire time but he’d been too judgmental to give him a chance. 

When he bought his own flat after Beck left, Liam and Niall had been his saving graces. They had been so kind to him while he healed from everything he went through, and it’d taken him until now to realize that Harry had tried to be kind to him, too. 

***

“So, that’s everything, I think.” 

When he’s done with his story, Harry’s hard eyes are focused tightly on him, tracking his movements. Louis figures he’s trying to decide if he’s telling the truth or not. He doesn’t even blame him. 

They’re on the couch now, having moved sometime while Louis was talking. He shifts under Harry’s gaze, but doesn’t try to shy away. This is everything he wanted to share, and now their future will depend on how he reacts. He can’t back down from the truth. 

It feels like he explained everything thoroughly enough, but if Harry still has any questions, he doesn’t ask them. He just sits there, eyes trained on a spot on the sofa a bit in front of Louis, unmoving and making Louis more nervous by the second. 

It’s nerve-wracking, a bit, because not only did he just admit that he never really hated Harry, was only scalded by some drunk mishap that occurred years ago that he really has no business being upset about now. 

The second reason is because it’s obvious that he’s had feelings for him this whole time. It took him a bit to identify exactly what they were, but he had now. During his story Louis cringed every few seconds because everything sounded so elementary. Like his crush on Harry spurred on the snowball of unfortunate events that came after. Now that it’s quiet, Louis realizes he probably didn’t have to add all of the parts about him being so affected by everything he did, but it’s too late to think about all of that now, and he’s trying to be honest anyway. It’s about time, he figures, and it’s the least Harry deserves after everything Louis’ done to him. 

Luckily, Niall and Liam haven’t returned yet, but Louis wouldn’t be surprised if they had their ears pressed against the door. Even so, he can’t find it in himself to care. 

“That doesn’t excuse you from treating me badly,” Louis jerks at the sound of Harry’s voice after the long silence, “but I understand where you were coming from.” 

“Definitely not,” he agrees. 

Harry eyes him warily from the other side of the sofa, his mouth opening and closing again every few seconds but nothing comes out. His jaw clenches and he shakes his head. 

“I just -,” he sneers, “there’s this part of me that just really wants to make you feel the same way that I felt all those years. That’s the only way you’d ever - the only way you’d ever really know how I feel right now.”

Louis nods sadly. 

“But then there’s this other part of me that really wants to - just -” Harry throws his hands up and makes a strangled sound that Louis thinks may be the closest human equivalent to a growl, and then he’s being grabbed by the front of his shirt. 

His lips find Harry’s quickly, rough and lopsided with big hands framing the sides of his face. It’s messier and harder than how they’ve kissed before, but Louis feels himself beginning to relax in his hold. He lets Harry move him where he wants, shifting over to settle a leg on either side of Harry’s. 

Louis wonders if this means he’s forgiven. He shouldn’t be, probably, but Harry’s tongue pushes the thought out of his head from the seam of his lips. Through the haze, Louis can feel his eyes burning behind his lids. 

Before Harry, Louis almost never cried. It’s like there’s something that snaps inside of him when Harry’s taking care of him though, that changes all of that. He’s not sure if it’s because he feels safe with him or because it’s just such a release after being touch starved for so long, but if Louis has to guess it’s probably a mix of both. It’s just so refreshing to have someone around. 

No matter what the cause is, his tears find their way to their lips and Harry just kisses them away tugs Louis tighter to his chest. He’s pulling on his waist, pushing up into his mouth with an urgency that hadn’t been there any of the times before. Harry was calm and in control then, but now he seems distraught, his kisses turning feverish as he bites at Louis’ lips in between harsh exhales against his mouth. 

It’s not any less amazing, though. Louis isn’t even surprised. He still feels the nervous twisting in his tummy, the undeniable pull of their bodies that never really seems to completely go away. 

He also feels the way Harry tenses up underneath him at the sound of the door clicking open. 

“I know, Ni, I can’t believe he did that,” Liam chuckles, “oh, I dropped the key. Hold on.” 

In the time it takes him to bend down and pick up the key, Louis situates himself on the opposite end of the couch, while Harry grabs the remote, kicks up his feet, and wipes at the back of his mouth. 

When they walk in, Niall and Liam try not to be obvious, but Louis can see the way that Liam looks to Harry and Niall looks to him with questioning eyes. He can’t see what Harry does, but Louis nods at Niall and he gives him a relieved grin, sauntering off with his bags of, assumedly, food. 

The end of their conversation is still somewhat up in the air, but Louis has to admit he feels much better. The heavy weight on his chest feels a little less like it’s going to suffocate him now. 

Louis knows better than to assume that everything is going to be fine now, though. Even if Harry decides to forgive him, Louis will have to work for it. If not for Harry then for himself, to feel like he still deserves any of his attention. 

They have two more stops, only seven more days, for him to make this right. One day would be spent entirely in the car, where they would get no alone time, so Louis will have to plan accordingly and work fast. 

“Lou, you’ll never guess what we saw. Liam tried to buy this shirt from this vendor, right? So Zayn was like,” Niall lowers his voice, “‘ _ I totally misjudged you, Liam _ ,’ and Li was all like,  _ what, why _ ?” 

He cuts himself off with his laughter. 

“Turns out the back of the shirt said  _ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy _ .” 

To the sound of Niall’s snorts, Louis finds himself smiling. When he looks over at Harry, he’s smiling, too, and even Liam’s chuckling through his obvious embarrassment. For a moment, everything feels really, really  _ good _ and Louis tries to soak all of it up while he can, before operation  _ Get Harry Back _ officially begins, even if he never really had him to begin with. 

——

Operation  _ Get Harry Back _ starts with bacon, apparently. 

It’s the last day in Austin, Texas, Louis having spent the rest of it sulking around the hotel room, and he’s determined to make a serious effort. 

He’d heard from Niall who heard from Liam that Harry was partial to bacon in the morning, served with toast and tea. In other words, it’s the only reason Louis’ up this early, whispering a large order into the hotel phone and charging it to his credit card. 

If he’d been accurate in his assessment of who’s footsteps sounded before sunrise each day, Harry would wake up any second. Louis is fully aware that this could be incredibly uncomfortable - Harry could tell him that he doesn’t want to eat breakfast with him, or he could not wake up at all until much later, when the food’s gone cold and the other guys will have eaten it first. He’s willing to take the risk, though. 

When fifteen minutes pass, Louis goes to wait outside of the door for the delivery so that the knock doesn’t wake up Niall or Liam. He pulls up the notes app on his phone, scrolling to his most recent one. 

The title reads an unsuspecting,  ** _GHB_ ** , in bolded, capitalized letters. It would have been too dangerous to title it the full operation name, he figures. 

Underneath that are three bullet points. There’ll probably be more, eventually, but he only started the list this morning so Louis feels like he’s already doing pretty good. 

He crosses off the first one,  _ get breakfast _ , and moves to the next,  _ make him smile _ . The task seems simple enough, but to Louis it holds more meaning than usual. 

Growing up, he’d always been very in tune with his family. Louis could sense when his sister was upset, or when his baby brother needed to be fed, or when something was bothering his mother. Making them smile felt like a super power. It meant that even though things weren’t necessarily the best at the moment, he still had the ability to provide them a little bit of happiness. 

It doesn’t change the fact that he’s still awful with words, but it’s something that he can do instead that helps him gauge how the other person is feeling about him. 

It almost makes him giddy, the thought of making Harry smile. Deeper, more subconsciously, Louis feels like that probably comes from his relentless desire for validation - the same reason he’d started partying and drinking - but Harry never seemed to mind, had always offered him as much of it as he needed. 

The third and final item on the list is vague,  _ kind gesture _ . He’s not really sure what he wants to do for that one yet, but he knows it has to be something that means a lot to Harry. Louis tends to work off of actions rather than words. He feels like they ultimately mean more. Also, words had hurt him a lot in the past so he tries to stick to showing instead of telling. 

“Sir?” 

Louis flinches as the worker delivers his tray of food, looking up from his phone and hurrying to stand. 

“Thank you,” he nods and tips the man with the few bills he has in his pocket and turns to the door again, opening it quietly. 

Harry’s standing in the kitchenette when he wheels the noisy cart over the threshold, holding a cup of tea with his head tilted, an amused smirk on his lips. 

For a moment Louis just stares, eyes fixed on the exposed area of his chest, but he shakes it off and meets his gaze. 

“Balcony?” Louis mouths at him. 

His cup of tea sloshes over the side a bit as Harry sets it down. Looking over his shoulder, Louis hopes that the noise didn’t disturb Niall and Liam. 

They lift the cart the rest of the way across the room to avoid it’s squeaky wheel, setting it down gently just long enough to slide open the patio doors before picking it back up to situate it outside. Luckily, there’s just enough room left for Louis to pull the two lounge chairs around next to each other beside the food. 

He goes back in to grab Harry’s tea and a water bottle for himself, tugging the curtains closed the best he can before sliding the door shut behind him. 

Harry’s got a hand on the first plate already when Louis sits down beside him. 

“This for me?” 

Louis blushes at the assumption but nods anyway. He halfway expects a thank you because it’s Harry, but he isn’t surprised nor offended when he doesn’t get one. Once Harry gets settled and bites into his own food, Louis stands up to serve himself. 

“I liked you, you know.” 

Louis’ hand freezes over the eggs.  _ Liked _ . Past tense. 

“And I knew that I recognized you from somewhere. From that party. Why didn’t you tell me when I asked?” 

There’s no time for Louis to answer before Harry’s hissing in another breath and speaking again. 

“That entire time, even without remembering the party, I wanted you. I mean, fuck, Louis, that’s the whole reason I kept dating Beck.” 

At that, Louis drops his spoon altogether and spins around, pouting down at Harry confusedly. 

“What? You didn’t - I thought you liked Beck?” 

Harry scoffs. 

“I couldn’t  _ stand _ her, Louis. She was so immature and she only ever cared about me when we were out in public or in front of your friends,” he shudders at the last word. 

“But,” Louis protests, “all of those nights that you guys came home late, stayed up in her room, I thought,” he trails off. 

“Did you ever notice that when I didn’t get to see you I got out of there as soon as possible? Or that I was very drunk, at least, to deal with being around her,” Harry shoves another forkful of hashbrowns into his mouth, “That’s why we started having issues when you guys stopped hanging around each other. And you obviously weren't interested so I just backed off. Then she got angry with me for being distant and cheated on me to make me jealous, and you know the rest.” 

Louis thinks for a split second that he should probably be pretty angry that Harry just used Beck like that, but there’s nothing save for the usual feeling he gets around Harry swirling around in his tummy. 

“Oh,” he says dumbly. 

He has so many questions, so many things he wants clarification on, but he figures it’s kind of rude to ask Harry to keep telling him about how much he liked him when Louis hasn’t shared that much about his own feelings. Without much thought, Louis makes an effort to change that. 

“I tried to kill myself.” 

Harry blanches at Louis’ words, choking on his food and looking up at him with wide eyes. Louis rushes to explain. 

“Which isn’t supposed to like, make you feel bad for me or anything, I just - I haven’t ever told anyone that before.” 

Harry must understand his need to share because he sets his plate down next to them with a sharp  _ clang _ and moves closer, touching Louis’ arm with his hand and swallowing the food in his mouth. 

In all honesty, he has no idea why he told him that. Louis tries endlessly to push that memory down, not to think about it and to pretend it never happened, but now he’s gone and brought it up again. Harry looks at him like he’s waiting for him to continue. 

“It was a few years ago. After my mum died. I’d just gotten back to my flat after going home for the funeral,” Louis gulps, tugging at his sleeves, “I told everyone I’d get a job and provide for them, finish uni so maybe I could get a degree and earn enough money for them to go, too, someday.” 

Harry nods encouragingly, stroking his fingers along his arm, leaving goosebumps behind. Louis eyes him warily. 

“I thought I was doing okay, for a few days after that. But then I started thinking about everything that I tried not to and it all just got too - too much. I took some of every pill we had in the cabinet. Beck had just moved out.” 

“Oh, Louis,” Harry winces and moves his hand down to grab onto Louis’, squeezing it. 

“Luckily, it wasn’t that much, but it still sort of knocked me out for a bit. But it was like, I wasn’t really  _ out _ . I was just laying there, on the kitchen floor and I was still conscious, and I couldn’t move, but I could feel everything happening to me. Like, shaking and stuff,” he sniffs, “I remember hearing someone knock on my door, and thinking I  _ have _ to go answer the door. It was so weird, it was like for some reason it hit me really hard that I couldn’t just get up and open the door. I was frustrated with myself, but I knew that I didn’t want to die anymore after hearing it. I was so scared.” 

His voice falters near the end, but Louis’ proud of himself for getting all of it out. 

Sometime while he was talking, Harry’s hold on his hand had gone limp. 

“Harry?” 

His eyes stay focused on the middle of Louis’ chest. 

“When did you say this happened?” 

Louis stutters, trying to pin down an exact date. 

“Uhm, it was like, sometime over Christmas break our first year. I’m not sure what day exactly, but it was toward the end of break.” 

He watches Harry’s face go from stone to something more raw than Louis’ ever seen, and when Harry looks up to meet his eyes, there are tears in them. 

“Louis, I-” he chokes on a quiet sob, “that was  _ me _ .” 

His brows draw together.  _ What _ ? He doesn’t understand what Harry means. 

“The knock on the door, Louis, that was me,” he’s more frantic now, grabbing both of Louis’ hands at tugging at them desperately. 

“What? How do you - why were you there?” 

“You left your jacket, your favorite jacket in Beck’s car, and I’d been keeping it at my flat to give back to you.” He laughs incredulously, “So I waited until she moved out and then went over. I was hoping to try and get to know you better.” 

They’re both crying now, a mess of tears and breakfast food as Harry pulls Louis into his lap. Louis hopes the door is shut well enough that their friends can’t hear them. He’s burrowing himself into Harry, and Harry’s curling in on him in return, pressing watery kisses to the top of his head. He rocks him in his lap and shushes him, even though Louis can feel that his chest is still heaving, too, under his hand. 

This feels too  _ right _ . Nothing in Louis’ life has ever made much sense to him, but as soon as the words left Harry’s mouth it was like it just clicked. He smiles a bit through his tears. He knew carrying around the weight of his failed suicide attempt would have an impact on him, but it feels so much lighter now. In a way, Harry had been there for him even then, and he hadn’t known it. He looks up at him at the realization. 

“I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Harry pulls back from him to grab both sides of his face, slick with moisture. 

“No,” he says, “don’t apologize. Everything is - we’re good now, yeah? Everything’s forgiven on both ends.” 

Louis nods and reaches up to take Harry’s lips in his so he won’t see how bad they’re trembling. Louis thinks he hears himself thanking him, but Harry keeps his mouth on his and doesn’t let up until they’re both gasping for air. 

“Your mum would be so proud of you, Louis,” he tells him. 

He thumbs over Louis’ cheek and closes his eyes, breathing in deeply. 

There’s an inhale, and then a chuckle, and then it happens. 

Harry smiles. 

——

In the hour that follows, they somehow manage to compose themselves enough to actually eat the food Louis ordered. 

Louis refuses to move from Harry’s lap, and Harry spoons eggs into his mouth and feeds him pieces of his bacon. Louis finds all of it unbearably domestic. 

Undeniably, he feels so much closer to him now. There’s always been an unexplainable tension there, but Louis always attributed it to hating him. 

Looking back on it now, he wonders if he ever even  _ hated _ him at all. Mostly, he’s just angry that it’s taken them this long to figure it all out. Even if they can only have it for a few more days, he’s glad they did. 

He’s pleasantly warm, curled up in Harry’s lap, and the sun has only just risen. Louis stays quiet as Harry watches it come up over the buildings, knowing that he enjoys sunrises, but Louis can feel his gaze on the top of his head almost more than he actually looks at the sun. Something about that makes him feel even warmer. 

Louis likes it, too - watching the sun sometimes. It reminds him of when his mother sang him lullabies.  _ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.  _

If he’s really quiet, he can hear her voice in the back of his head, humming the notes quietly as he falls asleep on the bad nights. 

Eventually, they clean the food and venture back inside. When Niall opens the door to the bathroom and Liam steps back in from talking to Zayn, they’d already gotten rid of the evidence. The cart is hidden behind the counter in the small kitchen, but both of their friends miss it completely. 

Liam coughs and turns to Louis.

“We were thinking of hitting some food trucks downtown and then driving up to Mount Bonnel this evening to watch the sunset. You feel up to it?” 

Louis glances sideways and nods, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

There’s a slight pause, Liam raising his eyebrows like he hadn’t expected that, but then he smiles at Louis. 

“Sweet, we’ll probably leave in an hour or so. Is it cool if Zayn tags along?” 

“For sure,” Harry pats his shoulder, “anytime, Li.” 

Louis nods as well, heading to pick out his clothes. When he gets over there, Niall comes up beside him and bumps his hip as he leans over. 

“Better today?” 

“Yeah, better.” 

He can tell Niall wants to ask more about the goofy, lopsided upturn of his lips but he refrains and gives him one in return, offering his hand for a fist bump before bouncing off to his own suitcase. 

Bringing his clothes into the bathroom, Louis considers what he can do as a  _ kind gesture _ , since he’d already completed the first two tasks. He’s never been good at grand, romantic showings of affection, but he can see himself changing that. Maybe not publicly, but for Harry alone it doesn’t seem like a far-off idea. 

Whatever it is, he only has a week left to do it. He refuses to think about the days that come after that. 

——

It turns out Zayn had followed them down from Denver. He’d called Liam the day after they’d left and told him he was getting on a plane. Louis missed all of this in his post-harry-fight haze, but Niall catches him up on the ride downtown. 

All of it’s sickeningly sweet, but he’s happy for Liam. He deserves to have some happiness. Louis’ excited to get to know Zayn better, but mostly just to spend the day with Harry and see if things were better after their conversation. 

The sign out front when they pull up reads  _ The Picnic _ , adorned with lights and arrows. There are food trucks everywhere, and even some retail stops that have clothes and trinkets out front. 

He’d ridden in the back with Niall to make room for Zayn up front and to keep their friends from being suspicious, but he’s dying to touch Harry again. Just to hold his hand or something. Louis is a big fan of human touch, he’d discovered recently. 

When his feet hit the ground, he’s already coming up behind him, letting everyone else pass by as he grabs onto Harry’s finger. He says nothing, but Louis can see the corners of his mouth turn up. 

“The goal,” Liam begins, “or, Niall’s goal, is to try and sample at least one thing from each place.” 

Niall nods proudly, pushing his chest out and surveying the menus around them to see which he wants to try first. 

“Cool. Where are we starting?” Zayn asks. 

At that, Liam seems to lose his carefully scripted ideas and turns to him with doe eyes. 

“Wherever you want.”

Harry bites his lip to stop from chuckling beside him, and Louis smiles. This is good. Everybody's happy. Niall’s got his food, Liam’s got Zayn, and Louis has Harry. 

“What do you want to try first?” Harry pulls him aside. 

“I’m not sure,” he glances around, “Start with dessert?” 

Harry dimples. 

“Was hoping you’d say that.”

They split up with the rest of them for a few minutes, sampling the menus of several of the dessert trucks. They get all of ten minutes together before Louis sees Harry smirk, and then he feels Niall’s hands come down on his shoulders, choking slightly on his chocolate croissant from being startled. 

“You didn’t think you could escape, did you?” 

He slides in beside Louis on the bench, licking his ice cream cone obscenely. Louis grimaces. 

“Niall, what did we say about eating it like that?” 

Holding their own desserts, Liam and Zayn sit down on the other side of Harry when he moves down to give them room. 

Niall just shrugs and continues licking. Without thinking much about it, Louis reaches over and shoves the leaking cone onto his cheek. 

There’s a click, and Louis looks over to catch Harry taking a picture of Niall’s chocolate-covered face. 

“Oh, you are so  _ dead _ !” 

He gets up to run away, Niall following closely behind him as he hears their friends laugh. 

After Niall’s satisfied that Louis has as much ice cream on his face as he does, they find the bathroom underneath all the gazes of the people eating outside. 

“That was fun,” Louis laughs. 

Niall tries to act angry, but he ends up laughing along with him. They stumble out into the main area and he turns to head back to their table. 

“Hey,” Louis tugs on his sleeve, pointing, “I want to stop there.” 

“Alright, I’ll get a churro from the one over while you shop.” 

The shop is a remodeled trailer, filled with clothes and jewelry and it looks so home-y that Louis immediately knows he has to see what they have. He scans the racks outside as he approaches. 

The shirts hanging there are nice, but he’s already gotten a shirt. There’s also some local artwork hanging around, and Louis stops to appreciate it but moves on. Inside, it’s filled with little things. Antiques, mugs, hats, everything. Louis runs his hands over the shelves. 

It’s all nice, but nothing really stands out. He frowns. 

But there, by the door, is an assortment of color. It catches his eye as he turns to leave, and he walks over to it to see what it is. 

The bracelet is a thin piece of yarn, tied into a knot at the back. It’s got a different letter threaded on to each, a simple silver bead at the front. Upon further inspection, Louis realizes that these are probably friendship bracelets. 

Smiling to himself, he looks for everyone’s initials and takes them to the woman running the shop. 

When Niall gets back with his churro, Louis already has the small bag hidden in his back pocket. He’ll save them for the right moment. 

Zayn is sitting by himself when they arrive at the table, staring at his phone. Behind them, he can see Liam and Harry in line at a different truck. He nudges Niall to go with them and sits down across from Zayn. 

“So,” Zayn glances up at him when he sits down, “what are your intentions with my Liam?” 

He chuckles at Louis, pocketing his phone. 

“I was wondering when I was going to get that question. Although I was sort of expecting it from Harry, to be honest.” 

“Harry’s too nice to interrogate you,” Louis says sweetly, raising a hand to motion him to go on. 

“I don’t really know how much he’s told you guys,” Zayn entertains himself with a piece of food leftover on the table, “but we’ve been talking for a pretty long time now, and I, for me, at least, it’s pretty serious. I mean, I flew out here just so I could see him for a few more days.” 

He laughs, and Louis can see the look in his eyes. It’s eerily similar to the way he looks at Harry. 

“Well, then,” Louis nods, “that’s all I need to know.” 

“You aren’t going to warn me about what will happen if I hurt him?” 

Louis meets his eyes slowly, “You don’t plan on hurting him, right?” 

Zayn shakes his head frantically and opens his mouth a few times but doesn’t say anything else. Louis shrugs at his surprised expression. 

“For the record,” Zayn leans in, “I think you and Harry are really great together, too.” 

Louis doesn’t even bother correcting him. 

“Bribery will get you nowhere,” he tells him. 

Zayn laughs at him and seems grateful about the end of the questioning, but he lights up even more when Liam sits down next to him again. 

“Alright?” Harry asks. 

Louis glances around at Liam kissing Zayn’s cheek and at Niall who’s eating the last bits of his oversized churro. He turns back to Harry and links their pinkies together underneath the table. 

“Perfect,” he says. 

——

Mount Bonnel, a cliffside carved beautifully on either side of the Austin part of the Colorado River, takes Louis’ breath away when they arrive. 

Liam’s got them all situated on the side where they can watch the sun go down, bringing a stack of blankets and a bag of snacks from the car to set out on their empty area of rock. It’ll be a few more hours, but the view from here is spectacular. 

Harry goes to get theirs out for them, talking to Zayn while he grabs his and Liam’s from the pile. Louis nudges Liam’s foot with his own while they wait. 

“What’s up, Lou?” 

He’s got a small smile on his face, but he still won’t make eye contact with him. Louis shifts to lay his head down on his thigh and look up at his chin. 

“I’m really happy for you, Li.” 

“Thanks, Louis,” he pats his head, smiling a bit wider now. 

Always the mature one, Liam rarely takes the time to do anything for himself. Or if he does, he feels guilty for being happy about it. Louis and the others have to remind him that it’s okay or else he won’t go through with it, and Louis really thinks him and Zayn could have a good thing going. 

There are only two large blankets, and as much as Louis wants to take one for Harry and himself, he knows that would leave Niall without a place to sit since Liam and Zayn obviously get to share one. When Harry’s done laying it out, he pats the space next to him. 

Niall bounces over, but instead of sitting where Louis pointed to, he situates himself right between him and Harry and wiggles in tight. Their hips are all touching, and Harry catches his eye behind Niall’s head with a barely contained grin, trying not to laugh. 

“This is great, innit?” Niall swings an arm over each of their shoulders, “Just five lads, watching the sunset together.” 

Harry does laugh at that, poking Niall in the side and making him jerk away. 

“Oi, that hurt,” he rubs the spot where Harry’s finger was. 

“I’m glad you’re having a good time, Ni.”

“Thank you,  _ Louis _ ,” he turns to glare pointedly at Harry, who just grins and laughs even harder. 

Four years ago, Louis wasn’t sure he’d ever have any real friends. He doesn’t think there’s anything else he’s more grateful to have now. Each of them have their own issues, weird tics they can’t shake and useless insecurities, but they all fit into each others nicely. 

The closer they get to sundown, the heavier the bag in Louis’ back pocket feels. He’s rarely ever sentimental, so he hopes the guys will recognize that he’s trying to do something really nice for them and not make a big deal out of it. It digs into him everytime he shifts, reminding him it’s there. 

He sits through Zayn’s story about a trip he took here with his family a while ago and watches as Harry stands up to take some pictures before it gets too dark. When Niall opens his mouth to tell his own story, Louis cuts him off.

“Hey,” he says. 

Everyone turns to look at him, and for a second he thinks about just telling a joke and laughing it off and being done with it. But then he feels Harry’s foot touch the bottom of his back and it’s okay again. 

He reaches into his back pocket and opens up the bag. 

“What is it, Lou?” Liam prompts him. 

“When we were at the shops earlier, I just saw these and thought - yeah.” 

It’s not a complete thought, but when he begins handing out the bracelets to his friends they seem to understand what he’s going for. 

Harry crouches down behind him. 

“Are these,” he whispers, “are these friendship bracelets?” 

His voice is thick with something as Louis nods, waiting for anyone to say something. 

They all sort of pile onto him at once, Harry from behind and Niall from the front, then Liam and Zayn on the outside. They’re thanking him and hugging him and Harry even presses a quiet kiss to the back of his neck before they pull away. 

“You even got Zayn one,” Liam croons. 

Louis blushes, even more embarrassed about the attention but happy that they like them so much. 

“He passed my test, so,” he smiles cheekily at Zayn and he laughs. 

“Did you get yourself one?” 

“Yeah,” he answers Harry, “here.” 

He holds his wrist out for him to fasten it, and Harry does it gently with a soft smile on his lips. Louis tries not to stare. He fails. 

If he stops too long to think about it, he feels like crying himself. These guys deserve friendship bracelets more than anyone else in the world, and yet they still seem so elementary. Like they’re not enough to communicate how much Louis really cares about them. 

Harry doesn’t let his wrist go after he does up the back of Louis’ bracelet, running his finger over the flimsy string and the prominent  _ L _ on the front. If he squints hard enough, it almost looks like Harry’s  _ crying _ . 

“Thanks, Lou! I love it.” 

Louis’ forced to stop looking at Harry as Niall comes up behind him and presses a big, wet kiss to his cheek. He chuckles halfheartedly at the gesture and tries to turn to face him, but Niall seems to sense that he’s intruded on something and backs away to talk to Liam and Zayn. 

“Harry?” He tries. 

Nodding his head even though Louis hadn’t asked him a question, Harry’s watery eyes only catch Louis’ for a split second before he’s pressing his lips to Louis’ forehead and hugging him tight. Louis doesn’t flinch when he feels Harry’s tears on the inside of his neck, but he really wishes they were alone right now. 

“Guys, look,” Liam says quietly, “the sun’s going down.” 

Harry pulls away from him just long enough to go back and sit down on their blanket, Niall having moved to lay at the end of Liam’s feet, and then he’s in his space again. Touching their legs together and taking Louis’ hand in his own between their bodies in case their friends were to turn around. 

It doesn’t take much hesitation for Louis to decide to lay his head down on Harry’s shoulder, sighing happily and pretending that he hasn’t just done one of the most scary, sentimental things of his life. 

The sunset looks the same as it always does, from Louis’ flat or from anywhere else in the world, but for some reason it feels different. He closes his eyes just as Harry sneaks a finger underneath the string on Louis’ bracelet, grounding him and making him feel like he’s on top of the world all at once. 

——

The next day, Zayn has to go home because they’re moving on to Nashville and he has to get back to work and school. Liam is a mess, but he’s trying to play it cool so that it doesn’t freak anyone out. 

Everyone tries to give them space as they say their goodbyes in the morning. Louis’ heart twitches painfully at the thought - in just a few days he’ll have to do that with Harry at the airport. Or maybe not. Maybe Harry won’t even say goodbye, Louis doesn’t know. He’s also not sure which one of those would be more painful. 

They’ve only got two and a half days in Nashville, and they spend most of the first one driving. It’s a twelve hour drive, which isn’t that far off from all of their other stops, but Louis sleeps through most of it. The first half of the drive he sits in the back of the car. As soon as it starts getting dark out and they stop for food, he moves to the middle row to lay across the seats, his head in Harry’s lap as he settles back down again. 

With everything going on, he hasn’t gotten a chance to talk to Harry yet. He still spends a good amount of time smiling down at the bracelet, but Louis doesn’t want to call him out on it in front of Liam and Niall. It feels like there’s something personal there and, just like anything else that has to do with Harry, apparently, he wants to figure it out for himself before anyone else knows. 

He gets his chance when Liam and Niall stop in at a candle store that Liam’s mum suggested to him, Harry telling them they’ll stay in the car. 

As soon as the door shuts, Harry’s running his hands over Louis’ face and leaning down to kiss him, but he stops when Louis starts talking. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

He nods hesitantly, “Sure.” 

“Why did you like the bracelet so much?” 

After the words leave his mouth, Harry’s eyes flick down to it on his wrist as if on instinct. 

“It was just so unexpected, I think. Just a few weeks ago I would never have thought we would be friends. And now we are and, like,” he shrugs helplessly, “I just really appreciate it. It means a lot to me.” 

Louis loves the way he talks. It’s slow and meticulous, but it gives him the time to make sure that he’s saying the right thing. Even after he gets angry, Louis’ never heard him apologize for anything he’s said, just for raising his voice. In a weird way, he admires that. Harry is just honest, and real, and he’s so kind but he doesn’t stand for anything he doesn’t believe in. Louis wishes he could be more like him, sometimes. 

“Oh,” he whispers, “I’m glad, then.” 

Always a man of few words, Louis. Harry just leans up into his space again and presses their lips together, grabbing either side of his face after he’s sat up. He chases Louis’ lips as he moves. 

In some ways, it’s like Harry balances him out. If he looks at it like that it’s much easier to think about. For every action Louis takes, Harry’s voice fills the silence. Nothing ever feels empty or dull or wrong with him. 

Harry’s kisses slow down as he moves his mouth to Louis’ ear. 

“Can I,” he presses a rough hand against the front of Louis’ jeans, “I know they’re coming back in a minute but we still have another two hours to the hotel and I need - I need this. Need to take care of you.” 

For a second, Louis’ unsure of how to respond. Usually  _ he’s _ the needy one, grabbing at Harry and chasing his warm kisses, but right now Harry seems desperate. 

Louis nods. 

Within the minute that follows, Harry’s got him situated with his back against his front, and Louis can feel how hard he is against him through his trousers. Somewhere in his mind, he feels guilty for not taking care of him first, but Harry seems to need this more than his own pleasure at the moment so he sighs and leans further into his chest. 

Like the last time they did this in the back of the van, it’s completely dark out. There are a few lights on in the parking lot but they’re far away, leaving them to rely on their hands instead of their eyes. Louis tries to remember to double check that the seats are clean before they take it back to the dealer. 

It doesn’t take long for Louis to start whining, rutting up against Harry’s hand through the material. Harry seems to sense that they don’t have much time because he moves his hand away, making Louis whimper, before putting it back underneath his clothes. 

Louis moans, turning his face into the cotton of Harry’s tee shirt and losing his breath. 

They don’t speak, but he feels Harry’s presence like a glow all over his body, soft and firm and  _ there _ , ready for Louis to touch. 

Subtly, Harry’s moving against Louis’ backside and Louis shifts to help him out, but Harry holds him still with a hard grip across his waist. His breath catches and Harry’s hand speeds up significantly on his cock. 

It’s weird, because Louis doesn’t even remember getting hard. Can’t think of the moment that it turned from sweet conversation to Harry getting him off, but it’s not important, he thinks. It just feels intimate, and safe. No separation between the two, really, because he feels the exact same way he does when Harry just smiles at him. 

Whatever the feeling is, it’s unexpectedly strong, and Louis wraps his fingers around Harry’s arm to calm himself down. He’s slouched far down on Harry now. His fingers catch on the bracelet, and he tugs on it, wraps it around his finger a few times. 

He hears Harry groan loud and provocatively in his ear, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

Between that and the way Harry’s using his hand to finger harshly over the tip of his cock, Louis convulses. 

Harry whispers in his ear him as he comes, telling him he’s  _ a good boy _ and he’s  _ so proud of him,  _ slowing his hand when Louis whimpers from oversensitivity and kissing the side of his head. 

Louis preens under the praise but doesn’t let himself linger too long, flipping over and trying to get his mouth on Harry like it’s instinct. 

He doesn’t stop him, unzipping and moving halfway out of his pants. Everything’s sort of hazy and Louis can’t really see very well but he manages to find Harry’s cock in record time, using a hand to guide it into his mouth. Like the first time, he’s still insecure about being good at it, but Harry’s already got his head thrown back against the window, one hand on the door handle and the other in Louis’ hair. 

He doesn’t end up lasting long, either. He spills into Louis’ mouth with a groan a few seconds later, and Louis tries to keep his eyes open and catch all of Harry’s cum in his mouth simultaneously. It doesn’t really work, but Harry pulls him up his body and kisses him anyway, long and hard and before he’s swallowed everything properly. 

Louis’ exhausted now, all tired limbs and lazy movements, but Harry maneuvers him in different ways to get him clean with some baby wipes he’d found in the front pocket of the car. 

When he’s done, he puts all of their clothes back into place and pulls Louis back onto his lap with a leg on either side and pets at his hair. 

“Thank you,” Louis tells him. 

“Thank  _ you _ .” 

Louis sniffs and brings his hands up beside his face, fisting them in Harry’s shirt, still damp with sweat. He feels Harry’s arms wrap around his back. There’s still one thing left on his list, a  _ kind gesture _ , but Louis figures he’ll think of something later, when he’s not boneless and spent. 

“Go to sleep, love. I’ll wake you when we’re there.” 

It should be embarrassing, how fast he falls asleep pressed against Harry, but he feels happy and sated and full and so much better than he ever has and when Harry presses down on his head, he goes without complaint and is asleep within the next five minutes. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)


	6. 0.6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nashville

_ Harry _

When Harry opens his eyes, it’s to Liam nudging him on the shoulder in the backseat. 

“I just checked us in,” he says sleepily, “Niall’s already up there and we got all the bags.” 

Nodding, Harry tells him that he’ll get him and Louis up from the car. His phone is still unlocked when he reaches across the seat for it, stuck on the screen where he added  _ Ease My Mind _ by Ben Platt to Louis’ playlist. 

“Thanks for taking our stuff up, man.” 

Liam waves a hand noncommittally and turns his half-lidded eyes back to the hotel, grumbling something under his breath that Harry can’t make out. He leaves him the hotel and car keys before dragging his feet away. 

Without jostling him too much, Harry situates Louis’ legs around his waist and carries him up to the entrance, turning around to make sure it’s locked before heading upstairs. He waits for the lift for a few minutes, assumedly because Liam was on it, but leans against the cool metal when he gets inside. He takes a deep breath and holds Louis’ body closer to his own when he begins to shiver. 

He sets Louis down gently next to an already sleeping Liam and tucks him in. Niall’s still awake, on his phone on the other bed, and Harry approaches him timidly. 

“Alright if I sleep here tonight?” 

He smiles, “Yeah, ‘course.” 

Harry shuffles out of his shoes and changes clothes in the bathroom before he returns to the bed. The lights have been turned off and he can hear Liam and Louis snoring lightly but Niall’s still very much awake, his phone screen lighting up the darkness on their side of the room. 

It takes a few minutes for Harry to get comfortable, shifting around and fluffing his pillow and trying to not annoy Niall. 

“So, the Louis thing.” 

Harry’s hand freezes above the pillow he’s about to readjust, facing away from him. 

“The Louis thing?” He clarifies quietly. 

“Yeah, at the start of the trip you called it that.” 

Harry gulps and slowly moves to face him,mindful to keep his voice down. 

“I didn’t mean to, like, objectify him or anything.” 

“No,” Niall dismisses him, “I didn’t think that at all. And I’m not going to ask any questions because that’s none of my business. But I do feel personally obligated to point out that if Louis comes out of this traumatized in any way, you should expect a visit from me.” 

The entire time he’s talking, he doesn’t look at Harry once. It’s more terrifying than Harry thinks it would be if he’d been making dead eye contact. 

“I don’t,” He stutters, “I would never hurt him, Niall.” 

The use of his name feels weird and dramatic, but Niall seems satisfied with his answer. He pats him on the head and gives him a small smile before reaching over to plug in his phone for the night. 

“Goodnight, Harry.” 

“Night,” he whispers. 

He’d been exhausted when they walked in, had wanted to curl up beside Louis and sleep for days, but now there’s an incessant buzz behind his eyes. Niall’s breathing evens out a few minutes later, but Harry just keeps tossing and turning. 

He sighs, grabbing his phone off the nightstand, and goes out to the balcony. He’s dialing before he even fully comprehends what he’s doing. 

“Hello?” 

It’s nearly three in the morning back home, but Gemma picks up immediately with a deep, sleep-raspy voice. 

“Harry?” She asks. 

“Hey, Gem.” 

She sighs on the other side of the line, like hearing from him is a massive relief. 

“Is there something wrong?” 

“No,” Harry shakes his head, “I just wanted to talk.” 

“Oh,” she exhales, “okay. What’s up?” 

And then he can’t think of anything to say. He’d wanted to hear her voice but now his mind draws a blank. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you.”

“No, Harry,  _ I’m _ sorry. I talked to mum and she told me some updates and I feel awful. It was out of line for me to say that to you.” 

The night after his and Louis’ date at the courtyard, he’d called his mum to share the excitement. He hadn’t actually told her anything about their arrangement, just that Louis was finally opening up to him and wanted to be friends. Just enough to prove that Harry’s years of unfailing adoration weren’t for absolutely nothing. 

He’s not sure of how to respond to Gemma, because he isn’t going to  _ lie _ . She did overstep, but this is his sister. They can’t  _ not _ talk to each other. 

“Can we just forget the whole thing?” He asks. 

Harry brings a nail up to his mouth to bite at. 

“I mean, yeah, H, we can. But I don’t want you to not tell me things anymore. I want you to be able to share all of that with me.”

Harry wants that, too. 

“I want that, too.” 

Gemma laughs a bit, not in a mean way or like she’s delirious but more like she’s just happy he’s talking to her again. He smiles a bit. 

“So,” she starts, tentatively, “tell me about Louis?” 

Perhaps it’s a bit too soon, or it should feel uncomfortable to open up to her about something so personal, but he’s diving right into all of the details before he can stop himself. 

He starts from the beginning this time, including details that his mum didn’t get to hear. He tells her all about how sweet he is and why he was so mean and how they finally figured everything out. She encourages him throughout, tells him she’s so happy for him. 

When he’s finished, he blows out a breath and relaxes further into the chair, staring up at the stars and grinning. 

“I really am so happy for you, Harry,” she falters at the end, and Harry knows what’s coming before she says it, “But-” 

She cuts herself off, like she’s not sure if she’s allowed to give her opinion. Harry braces himself for the worst and asks anyway. 

“But what?” 

“Well, what happens at the end of the week, when you guys come back home?” 

That’s the burning question, isn’t it? Already, there’s an unpleasant feeling spreading inside of his chest like a sour blanket over his elated mood. 

He’s torn, because part of him wants to give Louis his everything and make the absolute most of the time they have left, but the other part of him screams at him that he’s in too deep and he should get out now, before there’s no coming back and Harry gets himself hurt all over again. 

In conclusion, there isn’t an answer to her question. Harry won’t know until it happens, and he may not even really know then. He pulls the phone away from his face to add  _ House of Memories _ to Louis’ playlist. 

“I don’t know, Gem,” he closes his eyes, “I don’t know.”

——

Harry was able to get to sleep much easier after talking to Gemma, like a weight had fallen off his shoulders. It’d bugged him when they couldn’t speak. 

He’d slept so good, in fact, that he didn’t wake up until two o’clock the next day, when Louis came to offer him tea. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

He accepts the cup from him gratefully, taking a long sip of it before setting it down on the nightstand. When he shifts to get up, he notices Liam in the other bed. Harry points at him and glances at Louis questioningly. 

“He’s still asleep,” Louis shrugs, “Niall says we should let him wake up on his own but I’m not sure.” 

Nodding, Harry sits up and checks his phone. The other side of his bed is neatly made up and looks untouched. 

“Where’s Niall?” 

“Downstairs.” Louis picks at a thread on the sheets, “He’ll be right up, just grabbing the last of the food from the buffet they had.” 

“Oh, man,” Harry groans, “There was a buffet?” 

Louis laughs. 

“Yeah. I brought some up for you and Liam. ‘S in the fridge. You’ll have to heat it up.” 

His heart warms again. There was a pause between when Louis said ‘you’ and ‘Liam’, like he was going to stop at the first one. Harry’s going to get spoiled if Louis’ not careful. 

He doesn’t get a chance to thank him properly because Niall’s barging into the room a second later, setting down three bags on the counter. 

“Li’s still asleep?” 

They nod. 

“Okay, it’s been long enough.” 

Him and Louis start walking toward Liam like they already have a plan, and Harry sips his tea as he watches them try to wake him up. 

“Li? C’mon, it’s time to get up,” Niall shakes him.

When that doesn’t work Louis gets impatient. 

“Liam Payne, wake up,” he yells straight into his face. 

Liam startles awake, jerking away from Louis when his eyes open. He realizes where he is with a groan, turning back over into the pillow. 

“No, buddy, c’mon,” Niall says, ripping the sheets off of him, “you’ve got to get up.” 

He shakes his head. Louis smirks, picking up his phone from next to him on the bed. 

“Oh, look. Three missed calls from Zayn.” 

Liam’s out of bed before they can blink. He grabs his cell out of Louis’ outstretched hand and slinks off into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

“Wow,” Harry raises his eyebrows. 

Picking up the fallen pillows, Niall shakes his head.

“I feel bad about Zayn going home, but this is  _ not _ how the rest of the trip is going to go.” 

With Liam occupied, Harry once again pulls up the list on his own phone, reading out their plans. Liam’s got  _ Trolley Tour _ written in the space, with a link to a coupon for tickets. He memorizes the address from the link and tells them to get ready. 

“There’s one that leaves in an hour, and another at five-thirty. I’m not sure which one he was planning for, but we should get dressed now in case we have to use all of our strength to get Li out of the hotel room later.” 

Louis nods and Niall salutes him, heading off to get ready. 

Louis’ playlist is coming along nicely, growing steadily every day, and Harry adds a song every time he thinks of one that reminds him of him. He thinks it’s slowly becoming his favorite one to listen to. Over the last two days alone, he’s added  _ Someone To Stay _ by Vancouver Sleep Clinic,  _ Fighter _ by Joseph, and  _ It May Sound Strange _ by Spencer Sutherland, among others. He reaches for his headphones while he waits for them to finish dressing. 

Right now, the day seems like it’s going to be long and treacherous, but as Louis reaches up on his tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheek when Niall isn’t looking, Harry feels like it may turn out better than he thought. 

——

The sun is beginning to go down and Harry’s reaching for his jacket by the time they’ve got Liam on the trolley. It turns out that he’d planned the tour for the earlier time slot, but it’d taken everyone about an hour and a half to make Liam presentable, and then to get him out of the hotel room and make the walk across town. Niall’s preoccupied with distracting him from Zayn’s absence, but it gives Harry more time to hang back with Louis, so he doesn’t mind. 

It’s apparent now, that Louis doesn’t plan on being as discreet as they’d been before. He’s not obvious, really, he just does less to try and hide it. Even now, sitting at the back of the trolley while their friends sit in the row in front of them, Louis’ got his smallest finger wrapped around Harry’s own. 

All of it makes Harry’s heart beat just a bit faster, makes his hands shake when he thinks too hard about it, but in the best way imaginable. 

“How long do you think this will last?” Louis gestures loosely toward Liam. 

Harry glances in front of them. Pointing out the window and bouncing with enthusiasm, Niall’s trying his hardest to keep Liam occupied, but it’s no use. 

“I have no idea,” Harry shrugs. 

Part of him feels guilty, in a way. Like somehow because he and Louis are doing so well and Liam’s not it’s somehow still Harry’s fault - which doesn’t make any sense. He  _ knows _ it doesn’t make sense, but he wishes Liam could be happy, too, is all. 

The intercom is echoing the woman’s voice from the front of the trolley, delaying her words as Harry tries to listen to what they’re seeing out the window. It doesn’t do him any good. Louis’ still all up in his space, leaning his head on Harry’s shoulder and rubbing his cheek against the material of his jacket affectionately. 

Just like before, just like everything with Louis, it’s so easy to fall into the headspace where this sort of thing happens everyday. They could be a real couple and go on dates, hold hands, and kiss in public. They’re balancing on that edge right now, in fact. 

Surely their friends have noticed something, but Harry can’t even bring himself to care. He’s pretty sure Louis doesn’t either. It’s risky though, because now that Harry’s had Louis, it still doesn’t feel like enough. He’d thought maybe if he got this crush out of his system it would fade away and Harry would realize that Louis wasn’t all he thought he would be. But he  _ is -  _ he’s more. 

If Gemma could speak her mind freely, Harry knows she’d say something about how he’s trying to fix Louis or romanticize all of his issues, but that’s so far from the truth. If anything, Harry thinks they may be equally broken. Which isn’t necessarily a good thing, but it makes them both feel less alone. 

When Louis tugs on his sleeve, Harry looks down to meet his eyes. 

“Why do you like the sun so much?” 

He swallows. This question feels much too personal to be asking Harry on the back of a public vehicle, surrounded by friends and strangers, but there’s just something about Louis that pushes him outside of his comfort zone. 

“I’ve liked it since I was little,” he keeps his voice low, shifting on their seat, “my mum used to read me this book -  _ The Little Prince _ . Every night before bed, we’d watch the sunset and she would read to me. That one was my favorite. We lost it after we moved.” 

It’s probably not the answer Louis wants, doesn’t actually give anything away or offer an explanation, but he nods anyway and pushes a little bit further into his arms, keeping his eyes out the window like he knows if he looks at Harry he’d be intruding on something. 

And that’s something else that Harry loves about him. He just sort of knows when to push and when to let up. He’s not sure if it comes from him studying psychology or if he’s just in tune with him, but it’s nice. There’s never any awkwardness anymore and things always seem to flow smoothly. And Harry knows it isn’t because of himself. He hugs Louis a little tighter. 

The trolley slows to a stop a few minutes later, and Niall wraps an arm around Liam’s shoulders to help him down the steps. 

“Alright, Liam. What’s next?” 

“Hotel,” he bites, shrugging off Niall’s hand. 

No one says anything for a minute, but when Liam turns around to walk back Louis grabs his arm. 

“Here,” he hands him the room key, “go anywhere in the hotel you want but don’t come back up to the room until we say, alright?” 

He tilts his head suspiciously but takes it from Louis anyway, frowning as he turns to walk away. 

When he’s no longer in sight, Niall flips on Louis. 

“What the hell, mate? He doesn’t need to be alone right now.” 

Louis doesn’t even blink. 

“What he needs,” he says lowly, “is for us to go get him some dinner, phone Zayn and tell him to be ready to facetime in about an hour, and let him know we’re there for him, no matter what that means.” 

He looks to Niall pointedly at the last part, raising his eyebrows as if to say,  _ even if that means being alone _ . 

The way his mouth curls around the words makes Harry wince a bit from beside him because he says it like he knows from experience. He’s itching to wrap his arms around him, but that would be crossing one too many lines. 

Harry nods and steps forward. 

“Tell us what to do.” 

“You,” Louis turns to Niall, “should go and get that pasta dish Li’s been loving recently from the restaurant across the street. And you,” he moves to Harry, “need to call Zayn.” 

“Okay,” Harry drawls, “but I don’t have his number?” 

Niall shuffles around and prods at his phone for a few seconds before he hands it over to Harry, still irritated. 

“Here, I got it off ‘im at the party. Thought I might need it for something.” 

Harry copies the number down and hands the phone back to Niall, who pockets it and scurries off to the restaurant across from them. Harry can tell he isn’t happy about Louis’ plan, but he goes through with it anyway because as much as they all hate to admit it, Louis’ plans usually work exceptionally well. 

When he’s finished putting the contact in, he turns to Louis with a brow raised. 

“And what’s your job?” 

“My job is to think of the plans,” he smirks, “it’s not like you or Niall are going to come up with any grand gesture of friendship.” 

“Oh, and you are? I’d like to see that,” Harry teases him, dodging to the side when Louis dives at him. 

Louis wrestles the phone from him and presses call, hurriedly pressing the phone up to Harry’s ear. 

“Oh, um, hello,” he says when Zayn picks up, “this is Harry. Liam’s friend.” 

“Oh, yeah. Hey, Harry. S’up?” 

“Well,” he starts nervously, “we were sort of hoping you could do us a favor.” 

He can hear shuffling on the other end of the line before Zayn echoes a questioning, “Okay?” 

Beside him, Louis reaches up on his tiptoes to press his ear to the backside of the phone. 

“Could you maybe give Liam a facetime call around, say, seven-thirty?” Harry glances at Louis, who gives him a thumbs up at the choice of time. 

“I would love to, but Li hasn’t been answering any of my calls for the past couple of days. I’ve actually been going kind of insane,” he chuckles, “‘m not sure what happened, really.” 

Louis takes a step back and furrows his brows. 

“Really? Oh,” Harry falters, but Louis motions to keep going, “well, we’ll get him to answer if you’ll call then.” 

“Alright, sounds good. I hope he does,” Zayn breathes, “I’ve missed him.” 

Before he can say goodbye, Louis grabs the phone from him and shouts, “Oh, and make sure you’re eating chicken and pasta when you call.” 

With that, Louis ignores Harry’s confused face and hangs up. 

“He hasn’t been talking to Zayn?” Louis talks to himself while he paces up and down the sidewalk. 

“I guess not.” 

“This is going to be more difficult than I thought,” he deduces, slowing his steps when Niall approaches them again with two bags of food. 

“Okay, I’ve got his favorites. What’d Zayn say?” 

Louis grabs both of them by the wrist and starts walking them back toward the hotel. 

“He said that Li hasn’t been talking to him,” Harry explains. 

Niall mirrors their surprised expressions, stumbling as he tries to keep up with Louis’ fast pace. 

“Really?” At Harry’s nod, he shakes his head, “Wow.” 

They listen obediently as Louis rattles off ideas about what they could do to make him happier and how to settle things between him and Zayn and Harry’s heart goes wild all over again. 

Louis’ the best at pushing people away and he always has been. He doesn’t like being vulnerable and he doesn’t share his personal thoughts or ideas often. But he’s so considerate of others, so good at giving them everything that he doesn’t give to himself. 

“C’mon, we don’t have all night,” he says. 

Harry wants to give him everything. 

They’re pushing through the revolving doors of the hotel just a minute later, and Louis scans the lobby before allowing them to cross to the lift and hurry inside before they can be caught. 

“Harry, will you set up your computer on the end of the bed?” 

He nods in response, heading straight to it when they get inside their room. Behind him, he hears Louis telling Niall what to do. 

“Yeah, just set it there, in front. And then move that over here, yeah, that’s good.” 

They step back to admire their work later, after Louis deems it acceptable. The computer’s set on the Skype screen facing the hotel door, ready for Zayn’s call. The throw blankets are set up all around it, a few pillows thrown around haphazardly to make it seem more cozy. Even the lights have been switched off, the lamps around the room casting a warm yellow haze. All of Liam’s favorite foods are in front, headlined by his most recent obsession, pasta with chicken. 

_ Now _ Harry understands why Louis told Zayn to be eating chicken and pasta. This is going to be a virtual date. Louis is brilliant. 

“Louis, you’re brilliant,” he tells him. 

“I know,” is what comes out of his mouth, but his face colors afterwards and he nudges Harry’s foot with his own bashfully. 

“We’ve got thirty minutes before Zayn calls, so we should find him and talk to him before that.” 

Finding Liam isn’t all that hard, because he’s sitting in the lobby by himself when they go downstairs to look. They elect Harry to talk to him. Louis briefs him quickly on the game plan, tells him that he and Niall will leave them alone while Harry tries to get him to open up, before nudging Harry forward with a quick  _ good luck _ . 

“Hey, Li,” He drawls. 

Liam glances up at him with half-lidded eyes, stoic and unimpressed. Harry clears his throat and tries again. 

“What’s going on?” 

He means it to come off as casual, but it all sounds forced and like Harry’s hinting at something else, and Liam isn’t fooled. He’s beginning to doubt Louis’ planning skills. 

“Was it their idea to make you come over here?” He nods briefly across the lobby, where Louis and Niall hurry to act like they weren’t staring. 

Rolling his eyes, Harry turns back to him and shakes his head. 

“I’m over here because I’m worried. Just a few days ago you seemed so happy and now it’s, like, the total opposite.” 

“I’m fine, H.”

At Harry’s unconvinced gaze, Liam sighs. 

“I think I know you a bit better than that, Li.” 

“You - you do,” he deflates, “I haven’t talked to Zayn since we left Austin. It’s sort of killing me.” 

Harry shifts closer and puts a concerned hand on his shoulder. 

“Why? I thought you guys were going really well,” he asks. 

“We are, or we were, I guess. After we left I realized just how out of reach he really is, you know?” 

Harry tilts his head, “I’m not following.” 

“I mean, he lives in Denver, H,” he sighs again, “Besides the fact that he’s way out of my league, his whole life is there. His art, some of his family, his friends. He’s there and I’m not. I’ve got this internship which will hopefully lead to a job, and I don’t want to leave London right now.”

“So why can’t you just do long distance? At least until any of that changes, I mean.” 

“Because it’s - he’s so,” Liam tugs at his hair and huffs, “I don’t even want to be away from him for that long. And we aren’t serious enough for me to go making any big decisions like moving there or anything. I haven’t even told him that I -”

“That you love him?” Harry whispers, smiling when Liam cuts himself off. 

He knows what Liam’s talking about, he thinks. He hopes Louis isn’t listening close or isn’t very good at reading lips because he’s about to voice as much. 

“I know what you’re talking about,” is all he says. 

“Yeah, I really do,” Liam exhales, “But I can’t feel comfortable giving everything to this relationship if he’s always going to be a thousand miles away from me.” 

Frowning, Harry purses his lips. 

“How did the whole Zayn thing start, anyway? You never told me.” 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that,” Liam looks sheepish, “We started talking a while back, about the start of last year. I commented on one of his posts, his art, and he messaged me back and everything just went from there.” 

He’s blushing now, his mouth turning up at the corners and looking down at his lap. 

“And I’m also really sorry I never told you that I was - you know,” he gestures vaguely between Harry and himself. 

“Gay?” Harry offers. 

He nods. 

“Liam, you don’t have to be sorry for that. I wish I would’ve been there to tell you that everything would be okay but you certainly shouldn’t apologize for it.”

“I know,” he nods, “but Niall and I have always been the straight ones,” Liam flexes his muscles and deepens his voice in example. “I just felt like it would be weird. I don’t think that anymore, though, really.” 

“There isn’t a limit of gays in a friendship,” Harry laughs, “But that’s great, Li. So then you decided you wanted to meet in person, after you started talking?” 

Liam nods again, “I wasn’t even nervous about it until the day before we were there. I didn’t even have to think about it. We planned it a while back.” 

“Ah, so that’s why you were so excited to go on this trip, then,” Harry laughs. 

Liam scrambles to correct Harry but he waves him off. 

“So, if you really feel like that,” Harry eyes him, “why don’t you just tell him? He probably feels the same way. We all saw the way he acted around you.”

“It sounds so easy when you say it,” Liam chuckles nervously, putting his head in his hands, “but there’s so much uncertainty. There’s - I won’t have any idea what he’s about to say and I could be overthinking everything.” 

Harry doesn’t even have to think about his response this time. 

“Sometimes you have to take those risks, I think. If you never put yourself out there you could miss out on the best thing that may ever happen to you.” 

His eyes find Louis before he continues. 

“And sometimes you won’t get what you want or things don’t turn out like you thought, but maybe that’s for the best. Maybe that’s the universe giving you another chance to do things the right way.” 

Louis glances at him sideways while he’s faking conversation with Niall and tilts his head questioningly, smiling slightly as color begins to flood his cheeks. 

“Like all of your past relationships weren’t quite right, they were missing something but you didn’t know what it was. But what you’ve got now,” he continues, shaking his head, “you can’t let that go. Even if it doesn’t turn out correctly, you’ll kill yourself later if you don’t give it all you’ve got.” 

When Harry looks back at Liam, he’s no longer got his head in his hands. He’s grinning at Harry, who knows he’s probably being much too personal and he feels sort of exposed until Liam pulls him sideways into a hug. 

“Thanks, man,” Liam pats him on the back several times before pulling back. “I’m going to talk to him.” 

He makes a move to head outside to the parking lot, but Louis approaches quickly to steer him toward the lift with a hand around his arm while he stutters, confused. 

“I think you should come upstairs first,” Louis mutters as they step on. 

Harry’s done most of the talking tonight, but Louis stops Liam in front of their door before he goes in. 

“And, Liam, you can always talk to us. About anything, okay? We want to help you the way you always help us.” 

It isn’t the dramatic monologue Harry was expecting, but it definitely gets the point across because Liam pulls them all into one giant group hug in the middle of the hallway, sniffling and thanking them over and over again. 

“Now, go on,” Niall shoos him. 

Liam opens the door with a backwards glance, and then Harry thinks he actually sees a tear. 

“Go, Li,” he puts a hand on his shoulder, “go get ‘em,  _ again _ .” 

He laughs and buries a wet face into Harry’s neck in thanks before he’s walking into the room and Zayn’s ringing right on time. They shut the door when he answers and Harry leans back against the wall, smiling. 

“You’ve done it again, Lou,” Niall grins and fist bumps him. 

Harry high fives him next, and they talk about how great he is while Louis dramatically pretends to flip his hair and accepts the praise. 

“Well,” Niall says, “you got everything right but one thing.” 

Louis and Harry turn to him. 

“Where are we going to sleep?” 

——

They end up sleeping in the van. 

Niall leans the front chair back as far as it can go and is knocked out almost immediately. 

It isn’t two minutes after he starts snoring that Harry feels Louis crawling onto his row of seats in the very back. His eyes haven’t completely adjusted yet, but he can just make barely make out the pronounced flailing of his limbs as he lands on top of him. 

“Oof,” he mutters, grabbing onto Louis’ waist so he doesn’t roll off. 

Louis just giggles at him and grins. 

“Shh,” he puts a finger to his lips. 

Getting comfortable takes longer than necessary because Harry’s trying to keep them quiet, and Louis fusses with the seatbelt as he settles himself in between Harry’s body and the seats behind him. 

At the beginning of the trip, Harry’d noticed that Louis never liked it to be quiet. He was always talking and filling up any silence with nervous rambling that often didn’t even have a real point to it. It never bothered him, but sometimes Harry likes it when everything is silent. He’s someone that needs a few minutes every now and then to assess things and form his opinions without someone else’s input. 

After nearly a month, Harry thinks it’s safe to say that he’s learned quite a bit about how to accept more of the noise, because it makes Louis comfortable and that makes him happy. But he also thinks Louis’ gotten much better at accepting the silence. 

Like right now, while he’s got his head on Harry’s chest and is tracing little patterns into the material of his shirt. He isn’t trying to seem bigger than he is or talk to make things less awkward. There’s no tense of his body pressed tightly against Harry’s or any nervous tics to make himself feel in control the way he does with other people. 

Harry can picture them like this in one of their own beds, tackling everything they have to get home to as a team instead of miserable and alone. Can almost taste the homemade meal his mum will have made when he brings Louis home for the first time, can feel all of the nerves running through him when he goes to meet Louis’ grandparents and younger siblings. Everything seems a bit easier in the dark, like it’s not so far out of reach. 

“Harry?” Louis whispers. 

“Yeah?” 

Louis shifts around a bit on his chest before he says anything else. When Harry begins to think he’s fallen asleep, he speaks up again. 

“I know you said it was a long time ago and you probably don’t remember much of it, but,” Harry can feel his hot breath on his neck, “would you tell me that story? The one about the little prince?” 

For a second, the only words that threaten to come out of his mouth are  _ I love you _ but he catches himself. The beginning chords of Troye Sivan’s  _ What a Heavenly Way to Die _ play through his head, and he tries to remember to add it to Louis’ playlist later. 

“Sure,” his voice is heavy, thick with emotion, and he knows Louis can tell but he doesn’t care. 

They could be doing anything else right now, checking their phones or rolling around in the back seat trying to be quiet while they kiss, but instead Louis’ asking him to tell him a bedtime story that he knows means a great deal to Harry. 

In his quietest voice, he tries to recall every detail he can remember about the book from his childhood. Louis listens quietly, and Harry pauses when he takes a breath, feeling the way that their pulses match up underneath the layers of clothing. 

Because that’s just Louis - he doesn’t even realize what he does. And it isn’t some big revelation when Harry repeats the words inside of his brain, because he thinks he’s probably loved Louis for a long time. It’s dizzying and way too soon and Louis probably doesn’t feel the same way, but he’s been so ready for this since he was barely twenty-one and it doesn’t frighten him, so he embraces it. Harry’s no good at hiding his emotions, anyway. 

And Gemma’s question is still there, flashing behind his eyes in the darkness of the car, but now he thinks he knows the answer. It won’t be easy giving him up in a few days, but at least he knows now, that there’s no turning back from here. 

He shifts so that Louis’ ear is right above his heart and continues, hoping he understands. 

_ I love you _ , he thinks as Louis drifts off to his words, squeezing his hand three times. 

_ I love you.  _

——

Niall is, surprisingly, the first one up the next morning. He knocks on the back window and Harry blinks his eyes open to harsh sunlight before promptly wincing and shutting them once again, curling his body back around Louis’ smaller one. 

He knocks again, getting impatient, and Harry groans and sits up, glancing at him with an uninterested expression. Niall points to the unlock button on the inside of the car. 

“We leave for the Hall of Fame in thirty,” he says when Harry climbs over the seat to crack the door open. 

“C’mon, Lou,” Harry says, turning back and running a hand over his cheek where Niall can’t see. 

Louis makes a sleepy noise and pushes his face into Harry’s palm. With a fond grin, Harry goes to lift him out again once Niall’s gone back inside. He wakes up when they start moving, blinking confusedly up at Harry like he doesn't know where he is. 

“Wha-” 

Setting him down at the entrance, Louis grabs onto him to steady himself while Harry leads them in. 

“We’ve got to be ready soon for the museum.”

“Oh,” Louis yawns, “right.” 

When they get back in the room, Liam’s in a much better mood. He’s buzzing around the space, poking Niall in the side and laughing when he chases him afterward. 

Louis raises an eyebrow, but shrugs and goes to get dressed without giving it much thought. Harry fetches his outfit from his luggage. 

“Hey, Li.” 

“Morning, H!” 

Niall’s got a smug look on his face as he folds his clothes, even though the whole thing was Louis’ idea. It’s fine with Harry - a happy Liam means a happy day for the rest of them. 

“Let’s get going,” Liam claps his hands, “we’ve got to be on schedule today. Lots to see.” 

He walks away to get Louis out of the bathroom, but as he’s leaving his phone goes off and Harry picks it up to hand it to him. In big, white letters that have several hearts next to them and a picture of him as the background, Zayn’s name appears at the top of the screen. 

Harry tries not to smile too wide when Liam takes it from his hand with a shy glance. 

Maybe it’s because he wasn’t as close with him before but Harry used to never notice things like this. Moments where Louis had interfered in someway or another to make their lives better. Harry enjoys seeing the positive effects of his plans, it makes him feel proud in a weird, overly codependent way. 

He shakes his head and pulls on his outfit for the day. 

Today’s plans are mainly for Niall and himself, and Harry’s very appreciative. He’s always wanted to see the Musicians Hall of Fame, ever since he’d decided that he wanted to study music in uni. His whole life plan involved going to law school and everything that came with that, but he’d changed his mind at the last second. It’s one of the best decisions he’s ever made, in his opinion, because he got to meet these guys. 

That, and music is a much more captivating subject that Harry actually feels passionate about. He writes sometimes, lyrics and small melodies, but none that he’d ever share with anyone. 

He’d even written some things about Louis a few times, a painfully saccharine and naive collection of poetry that he keeps hidden away in the very back of all of his notebooks. He’s just always been a good muse, is all. 

Sometimes Harry wishes that he was more talented, like if he knew how to draw or paint. That way, even though he considers himself a good photographer, he’d be able to capture stills of Louis from  _ his _ perspective, with all of the little details the camera can’t even pick up. 

Louis has freckles, for instance, that cover the middle of his face. They’re on his nose and they fade away somewhere under his eyes. And his long, black eyelashes that suit his eye color so well. Even the deep redness of his cheeks sometimes gets lost inside of the lens. 

It doesn’t bother him too much, though, because no matter what he’s good at, he figures nothing will be able to fully capture Louis correctly unless he’s right in front of them. Harry will have to take advantage over the next few days. For now, he settles on perfecting Louis’ playlist and wondering if he’ll ever let him hear it. 

“Ready?” Liam asks after he’s gotten Louis out of the bathroom. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, “let’s go.” 

He doesn’t bother bringing his camera today because the museum won’t allow any photos, but it still makes his shoulder feel naked without the heavy strap on it. He shakes it off and walks toward the lift, where Niall’s holding the door open. 

“Thanks.” 

Louis falls into step beside him when they get outside, and Harry finds it hard to believe that everything’s still so easy. It isn’t easy in the sense that their situation is ideal, but it’s just odd, the little things that he notices when they’re together. Their hands swing at the same time between them and their steps are in sync. They don’t ever talk over each other, but everything still flows smoothly with no awkward silences. Sometimes, when they’re close, Harry could even swear that they’re meant to be because of how well they fit together. It’s all very cliche and sickly sweet and Harry can’t get enough. 

And now, after Louis’ truly told him everything, he’s much more at ease. They both are, really. It’s nice, for once, to not have to try so hard. None of the things he mentioned require any effort. They just sort of fall into place like it’s supposed to happen. Inspired by how happy he feels, Harry digs around in his pocket until he finds his phone and adds  _ I Can’t Believe _ by Cyn to his playlist. 

Liam takes a backroad to avoid the traffic, ignoring Niall’s anxious plea to  _ stick to the route, Liam, please _ , and it gets them there fifteen minutes sooner than they thought. When they step out, Harry’s nearly buzzing with excitement. He thinks Louis can tell, too, because he’s smiling with him and Louis hasn’t ever expressed interest or excitement in what they’re about to see. The deduction is quick and slightly narcissistic, but it makes him feel all warm and happy anyway. 

Once they’ve got their tickets, the first stop they hit is the L.A. Exhibit. It’s right inside the door and it catches Harry’s eye immediately. Simon and Garfunkel, The Carpenters, and The Beach Boys headline the display with large pictures that hang from ceiling to floor. 

Niall’s two steps ahead of him already, pressing buttons on all of the interactive screens they’ve got and reading the display boards, even though Harry’s sure he already knows everything they say. 

He acts aloof and he can be loud sometimes, but Niall is insanely smart, Harry’s noticed. Since they’d majored in the same thing, he got a chance to see a whole other side of Niall, where he actually studied and talked fluently about the subject and aced every test that was placed in front of him. 

He’d even inspired Harry several times, when he wasn’t sure what he wanted to be quite yet. Niall persuaded him to keep going and kept him motivated and he wishes now that he would have thanked him more. 

It’s weird, though. In Harry’s brain, there have always been two Niall’s. There’s his classmate Niall, who’s incredibly intelligent and intellectually stimulating and his fun, positive friend. And then there’s Louis’ friend, Niall, who would glance at Harry out of the corner of his eye when they were all together and acted without thought of the consequences and always had a drink in his hand. 

The versions are merging now, blurring together inside of his brain to make up the Niall he’s seen recently. The Niall that’s Harry’s friend  _ and _ Louis’ friend. He wants to ask Louis if there’s some psychological reason for it, but thinks now probably isn’t the time. 

The exhibits move quickly, with employees ushering them forward after a few minutes at each. Louis bounces between everyone, linking his pinky with Harry’s, looking over Niall’s shoulder while he reads, and then teasing them both with Liam. He seems happy today, which makes Harry happy, too. 

It only feels like they’ve been there for a few minutes, but by the time they walk out it’s already starting to get dark. 

The evening is finished off at a restaurant a few streets over from the museum.  _ 417 Union _ , Harry hears Liam call it. It’s got memorabilia from World War II and the Civil War all around the space, which Liam pays careful attention to on their way in. 

Zayn facetimes him halfway through the meal, and they all talk to him for a few minutes before Liam says he’ll call him later on. His face goes red after they tease him a bit but he recovers fairly quickly. Harry’s happy that he’s back to normal. 

For the first time during the trip, everything feels very cohesive. Niall isn’t having a side conversation with Louis all night and Liam isn’t anxious and reserved, caught up in his phone. And then, of course, there’s the fact that Louis keeps nudging his foot against Harry’s under the table. He’s probably doing it to be annoying since he keeps smirking when Harry looks up, but he doesn’t mind all that much because it reminds him he’s still there. 

It took them long enough, Harry thinks, to get to this point. He’d thought things were going okay before they’d even left, but now he feels like that was a major exaggeration. He’s learned more about all of them over the last month than he ever would have known had he stayed home. 

It’s things that he wouldn’t ever point out, but they’re all small, endearing quirks that make him smile anyway. Like when Niall touches everything he eats to his bottom lip once before he puts it in his mouth. Or when he figured out that Liam actually has a weakness, obvious in the way he acts around Zayn. 

If someone had asked him a few weeks ago what Louis’ unique mannerisms were, he’d have probably answered nothing. That he was a robot or something like that, that didn’t show any form of human emotion beside sarcasm or discontent. After spending so much time with him, Harry’s happy to say that it isn’t the case, but now it would probably take him all night to name the things he notices about Louis over the course of a day. 

“Did you enjoy it?” Louis asks when they’re back in the car, “The museum, I mean.” 

“I loved it,” Harry smiles. 

Part of him feels like Louis had something to do with it, because he knows Liam is bored to death by the material that Niall and Harry study. Even though he’s fairly sure Louis planned it with Niall in mind, he’s glad he did. 

Louis’ eyes are halfway shut by the time they pull up to the hotel, and Harry wonders if he’s going to have to carry him upstairs for the third time. 

He shakes him gently and moves him toward the door so he can step out when the car pulls to a stop. With Harry close behind him, Louis reaches to grab his hand, using his other one to rub a fist against his eye as he yawns. 

Each time Harry thinks something is going to feel weird or overwhelming or bad, it never does. Holding Louis’ hand still feels perfectly normal, like it’s something he does everyday. Harry’s too tired to focus on that, though. He readjusts his grip to hold his hand even tighter and doesn’t let go of it until they have to get in bed to go to sleep much later that night. 

——

“Lou?” 

Harry’s voice is sleep-scratchy and rough when he speaks, but it makes Louis jump all the same when he notices him standing there. 

Harry’d fallen asleep shortly after they arrived back at the hotel, had slept soundly ever since, but he’d had to use the bathroom. The clock on the nightstand read  _ 4:15 _ when he opened his eyes. The room they’re staying in has a divider between the living area, kitchen, and the beds, and Louis’ sat up on the sofa, staring at a cartoon on the television with the sound off. 

“Hi,” he says quietly when Harry plops down next to him. 

“What’re you doing up so early?” He pulls at the blanket Louis’ got wrapped around himself and situates his limbs underneath it while the AC blows on high behind him. 

“Couldn’t sleep. I got up about an hour ago,” he yawns, “I didn’t wake you, did I?” 

“No, you didn’t. Needed the loo.” 

Louis’ neck looks warm and inviting and Harry lays his head there while the light from the TV flickers over them. 

“My sister texted again,” Louis whispers. 

“What’d she say?” 

Harry can feel him swallow where his forehead is pressed to his throat. 

“I’m not sure exactly,” he frowns, “she just said we need to talk.” 

Now that Harry’s made up with Gemma, he feels badly about Louis’ relationship with his own family. Not that he hadn’t before, but for a bit in between it sort of felt like it was him and Louis against the world, no matter what their families or anyone else thought. It feels much more relieving to have someone to confide in, though, and he wishes Louis had that with his own sister. 

“Maybe she just wants to catch up,” Harry offers, even though he has a feeling that it’s more than that. 

Louis only nods and rests his head on top of his, reaching a small hand up to run it through Harry’s sleep-matted curls. 

It feels divine, and Harry practically purrs, pushing his head further into his hand. When Louis chuckles, he feels very pleased with himself. 

“You don’t have to stay up with me, Harry. You should get some more sleep.” 

“Are you kidding?” He asks, “Nowhere I’d rather be.” 

He can feel Louis’ smile without even looking up. 

The cartoon goes off some hours later, after Harry’s dozed off a few times, but Louis never stops running his fingernails over his head. Shifting to stand up, Harry can hear Louis’ stomach growl loudly and he laughs, holding out his hand to help him up. 

“Breakfast?” 

There’s an apple and a half-drunk water in the mini fridge and a basket of packaged assorted nuts on the counter, which isn’t actually anything they can work with. Sneaking quietly over to the desk in the corner of the room, Harry slides the van keys off of the surface and smiles over at Louis with his eyebrows raised. 

Louis’ answering grin is burned inside of his brain all the way down to the car. The nearest supermarket turns out to be five minutes down the road, but Harry’s glad they brought the van anyway. It rained the night before, and everything outside feels damp and humid. He’d much rather appreciate Louis’ presence in the cool air conditioning of the car. 

“What are we making?” 

“I have no idea,” Harry chuckles, “I hadn’t thought that far yet.” 

Louis just laughs and drags him down the aisles, scanning the rows up and down to see what they can make. Ultimately, since they don’t have an oven or stove, Harry concludes that their only real option is frozen, microwavable pancakes. 

“Ew,” Louis complains when he picks them up, “those are so gross. They’re all mushy in the middle.” 

“Would you rather us eat whole, entire eggs? Uncooked? And raw bacon?” He laughs, “This hotel doesn’t have free breakfast, remember?” 

Scowling, Louis shoves the pancakes into Harry’s basket and stomps away from him, but Harry can see him smiling when he moves to look down the next aisle. 

He grabs some chocolate milk and orange juice for drinks at the checkout, and then they’re loading the bags into the van and heading back. 

Liam and Niall are still asleep when they tiptoe in to set them on the counter and Louis shushes him dramatically when he moves them around. 

“How am I supposed to get the things out?” Harry whisper-yells. 

Laughing, Louis takes a solid pancake from the package and hits him on the arm with it. 

“Oh, you’re on.” 

It all goes downhill from there, because Harry grabs one, too and then they’re using them like swords to fight. In the dark, it’s hard to make out his face, but Harry can hear his soft laughter and can picture vividly the way his face is probably lit up with a smile. His skin pricks with the cold each time one of them grazes his arm. 

It still stings a bit, the realization that they could've been doing this years ago, but he’s having too much fun to be sad. Raising a fist in the air triumphantly when he hears Louis’ pancake fall to the ground, Harry grins. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t let me win!” 

He’s opening his mouth to make a joke back to Louis when Niall wakes himself up with a snore. They slowly turn to look past the half-wall to the beds. For a few seconds he moves around and grumbles, but then he’s turning back over and snoring once again. 

It makes them laugh all over again, and Harry’s got deja vu from when they had to be quiet like this in the hotel before last. Now when Harry checks his phone, it says  _ 7:53 _ . He grabs two more pancakes and sticks them in the microwave as his stomach grumbles. 

While they wait, he pulls Louis into his chest and hugs him tight, feeling slightly desperate to keep him close. Much different than before, Louis relaxes completely in his embrace and sighs as Harry sways them back and forth, using his sweater-covered hands to hug him back. 

“Do you think everything is going to go back to normal when we go home?” 

Harry tenses. 

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. 

Even if he’s figured out how he feels about Louis, there’s still no way to tell what’s going to happen in a few days when they’re leaving. He’s doing his very best to not think about any of it, but people seem to just keep bringing it up. 

It’s probably going to be painful and not fun and maybe slightly awkward still, but none of those things have anything in common with what he’s feeling now. Louis shivers a bit in his arms even though he’s in a sweater already, but Harry tugs him even closer anyways. 

Kissing his forehead, he lets him go when the microwave timer gets down to a few seconds so he can take their food out before the buzzer goes off. 

“C’mon,” he pulls him toward the balcony, “let’s go eat.” 

——

Packing up to head to New York is exciting, but Harry can feel a sharp undercurrent of fear amidst their cheery attitudes. While they all want to see what it has to offer, it’s also the last stop. They’re headed straight home from there in just a few days and Harry still can’t quite work out how he feels about that. 

He focuses on the things he’s always wanted to see, like the Statue of Liberty and Central Park. The photos there are sure to be amazing, and Harry’s dying to walk around for a bit with his camera. He’s been printing out small polaroids for his friends, but he wants to make some actual prints when he gets home to hang around his flat. 

Niall had already eaten three of their pancakes before they left the hotel, finishing off the rest of the package before Liam had even woken up, but he asks if they can stop in at a diner anyway. 

“What are you getting?” Louis asks, hitting Harry’s menu with his own when they sit down. 

“I’m not sure,” Harry scans the list of food in front of him, “probably just some bacon and eggs.” 

Louis nods resolutely and folds his menu shut, setting it back down on the table. 

“Okay, I’ll just eat some of yours, then.” 

Their friends look up at him at the same time, and then over to Louis who’s yawning and leaning his shoulder against Harry’s, uncaring of the eyes on him. Once he gets over the initial surprise of his blatant PDA, Harry smiles and glances down at him. 

With a quiet chuckle and subtle eyebrow raise, Niall just goes back to staring at the menu. Liam’s gaze lingers for a bit, but the waitress comes over then and they’re back in their own little world while everyone else orders. 

Louis does, in fact, eat off of Harry’s plate when it gets to the table, stealing bits of food every few minutes but mostly just leaning on Harry and listening to the conversation. Harry’s swooning inside of his head. He’s always been a sucker for domesticity, and Louis is checking that and every other box off on his list of things he wants in a significant other. 

“So, Payno,” Niall throws an arm over the back of the booth, “what are we doing in New York?” 

Liam sighs, “Don’t you ever look at the list?” 

Smirking, Niall shares a look with Louis and they snicker at him, while Liam looks at Harry and rolls his eyes. 

“There isn’t really much of a plan for New York. I was thinking we could each just sort of do our own thing and see what happens.”

Even Harry raises his eyebrows at that, because Liam  _ always _ has a plan. 

Liam sees it, “What?” 

“Nothing, I’m just surprised you don’t have anything down for it,” Harry takes a sip of his drink, “You usually don’t like going in without a schedule.” 

Chewing on his straw nervously and avoiding Harry’s eyes, Liam jumps when Niall pokes him in the side. 

“Or maybe it’s because he already  _ has _ plans.” Niall jaunts. 

“Wait,” Louis sits up, “is Zayn coming back?” 

Liam glares at Niall before he nods shyly, “Yeah. After the thing you guys set up for us in the hotel room we talked about him coming down for the last stop. He’s going to have to take off work again, but he said he doesn’t mind.” 

“Sweet,” Harry smiles encouragingly at him, swinging an arm around the back of Louis’ shoulders without thinking about it, “That’s great, Li.” 

The rest of their second breakfast goes much the same way, with an air of lightheartedness and ease that Harry knows is only possible now, after everything they’ve already gone through on the trip. Relaxing completely used to be nearly impossible when Louis was around, but now it seems like he wouldn’t be able to without him here. Whatever piece had been missing before, it isn’t missing anymore. 

Liam’s got his head thrown back, laughing at Niall who’s arranging bacon on his face in different shapes. Louis’ still snuggled up under Harry’s arm on the opposite side of the table, pliant and sated from the food and good company. And Harry’s just trying to soak up every last second of this before they go home. 

Of course they’ll see each other in the future, but it won’t be nearly as much as usual. They won’t have their weekly meetings over burgers and shakes or their late-night impromptu movie marathons, and they won’t be as close as they are now. Harry tries to picture a world where he only hears Niall’s laugh once or twice a month over the phone, only gets a frantic text rant from Liam every few weeks, and only sees the sweet beginnings of Louis’ smile when their schedules happen to match up. 

That’s the thing, isn’t it? In uni they didn’t have to worry about anything except the next exam or deadline. Everything was just a step in the right direction, but they hadn’t reached the end yet. They’re there now, though. They’ve graduated and this month was just a generous extension of that lifestyle before they become adults, which is something Harry doesn’t think the rest of them have realized yet. Or maybe they’ve realized it but it hasn’t set in quite yet, because he doesn't think any of them would be this calm if it had. 

And all of it’s a bit bittersweet, because it’s taken them years to get this far, for all of them to be this close, and Harry doesn’t want any of it to end. 

Niall’s making a paper airplane out of the receipt, folding it up and moving to throw it at Liam’s head. Only when he rushes to lift it up, he squeaks at the small paper cut that appears on his thumb, steadily bleeding down the side of his hand. 

Louis’ on it in a second, grabbing Liam’s bag from underneath the table and reaching inside of the front pocket to pull out a bandaid. He climbs over Harry to get to Niall, taking his wrist and examining the cut before placing the bandaid over the top of it. 

The entire time he’s fixing it, Niall whines into his ear but Louis takes it in stride. Just murmurs to him to calm down, he’s fine, and asking him if it’s wrapped too tight around his finger before he backs away. 

When he settles back into Harry’s side, he blushes under everyone’s eyes. 

“Thanks, Louis,” Niall tells him.

Harry moves some hair off of his forehead. 

“See, Lou, you’d make a wonderful teacher.” 

Liam snorts, “What?” 

“You want to be a teacher, Lou?” Niall asks. 

Confused, Harry turns his gaze to Louis slowly, who’s even more red now. He hadn’t told Niall, his closest friend, that his dream was to teach? 

“Uhm, yeah.”

For their part, Liam and Niall recover quickly, encouraging him again. 

“That’s awesome, Lou,” Liam says, Niall nodding beside him. 

Harry feels a bit like he’s just let out a secret he shouldn’t have, but Louis finds his hand underneath the table and squeezes it, so he can’t be too angry. He kisses Louis’ forehead in apologies. 

“Well, if we want to get there before midnight tonight we should get back on the road,” Liam says, sliding out of the booth. 

“Okay,” Niall follows, “Oh, can we stop at this ice cream place when we pass through Lexington? I heard it’s  _ amazing _ .” 

Louis grabs his hand as Liam groans in response, and Harry swings them back and forth obnoxiously all the way to the car. 

Lexington isn’t that far of a drive from where they are currently - Harry googled it - but he settles back into the seat anyway and tries to get some sleep while he can. The four of them packed into a car was chaotic enough, but even more so when they’re trying to sleep, Harry guesses. 

Louis pokes him on the cheek. 

“Are you going to take a nap?”

“Yeah, should I not?” 

He doesn’t give an actual response, just reaches around Harry to grab one of his blankets from the back and lays his head down in his lap, closing his eyes and sighing comfortably. 

Smiling, Harry moves his thumb back and forth over his forehead until his breathing evens out. Only then does he allow himself to shut his own eyes and lean his head against the window, falling asleep somewhere between Nashville and New York. 

——

Later, when they’re back in the car and Niall’s got chocolate ice cream running down his chin, Liam turns to face them. 

“I don’t think we’re going to make it there tonight at this rate,” he explains, holding up a hand, “unless one of you guys wants to take turns driving during the night.” 

Niall goes to open his mouth, but Harry shouts, “No!” at the same time Louis does and Liam chuckles. Squinting his eyes at them, Niall huffs and mumbles under his breath. 

Him and Louis are too scared to try out driving on the opposite side of the road, much less in the dead of night, and Niall is not an option if they want to make it to New York  _ alive _ . 

“Alright, then we’ll find somewhere to stop to sleep in a few hours. Is everyone cool with staying in the van so we don’t have to spend extra money?” 

Harry nods and the others follow suit, and then they’re moving again. 

It’s darker out now, since it’d taken them longer than they thought to get to Lexington. It’s quiet in the car when Liam calls Zayn to tell him that they’re a bit behind schedule but they should be there before noon tomorrow. 

With only ice cream for dinner, Harry’s positive he’ll be hungry later but he doesn't want to ask Liam to stop again. He’s pretty sure he still has some snacks in his bag anyway. If not, he’ll just make Louis ask. 

The nap they’d taken earlier hadn’t served much purpose, had only really made him even more tired, but Louis seemed much more energized when they’d stopped to go in. He bantered with Niall a bit and teased Liam about Zayn and sampled each of the flavors inside the store before they’d left, but now he seems worn out again. 

He’s already making their bed, he told Harry earlier that they’d be sleeping in the far back, and Harry can hear him arranging the pillows and blankets in the row behind him. 

“Hey, Lou,” Niall calls from the front, glancing hopefully in the rearview mirror, “D’ya think we could borrow some of those blankets tonight?” 

Louis hardly spares him a glance before he’s going back to perfecting their nest. 

“I guess that’s a no,” Liam concludes. 

Harry tries to hide the smug look that comes over his face, but Louis grins at him anyway when he catches his eye. 

When it’s finished, Louis taps him on the shoulder and beckons him over the seats, sliding to the side when Harry swings a leg over to move in next to him. 

Louis’ got the pillows arranged in the space between the rows so that there’s enough room for both of them to sleep comfortably, blankets layering the top so they don’t feel the divots and seatbelts underneath. 

Harry kisses him on the cheek in compensation. 

“Thanks, love.” 

It makes Louis’ face burn red, and he smiles and hides his face in the material of Harry’s shirt at the praise. 

Pulling to a stop in a hotel parking lot, Liam pulls the key out and speaks quietly. 

“Niall’s already asleep, so I’m just going to lean my seat back and try to, too. Do you want me to wake you guys for breakfast or just get on the road in the morning?”

Harry considers the hunger from earlier, but then glances down at the hold Louis’ got on his arm. 

“Don’t wake us.” 

Liam just nods and turns back around, and Harry listens to the sound of his seat leaning backward until it stops, leaving everything silent once again. He hopes Louis isn’t expecting a repeat of last time, because Niall sleeps soundly but sometimes it takes Liam awhile to be able to relax enough to do so. 

Instead, he moves to lay down beside him, drawing him to his chest and settling into the pillows. 

“It’s too quiet,” he whispers to Harry. 

Harry’s lip quirks up in the dark. 

“What do you suggest?” 

“Do you have your headphones?” 

Luckily, Harry still has his bag out on the seat he was in earlier, and he reaches over to grab it and look for them. 

“What do you feel like listening to,” he asks Louis, handing him the headphones. 

Louis offers one to him, but he declines. 

“Anything you like. I just want some sort of noise,” he says, slipping them in and laying his head back down while Harry scrolls through the options. 

He’s got a playlist entitled  _ sleep _ , and another one called  _ relax _ , but those don’t seem to fit right in the moment. He keeps scrolling, but stops when he reaches the latest one -  _ Louis _ .

Technically, he isn’t finished with it yet, may not ever be, really, but he clicks on it anyway. He may not ever get to show Louis this in the way he wants to - some big, romantic gesture where they sit and listen to each song and Harry explains why they all mean so much to him, so he’s willing to take the risk. 

The songs are arranged in chronological order from the very beginning, so Harry presses play instead of shuffle and tenses a bit when he hears the echo of it’s beginnings start to flow through the speakers into Louis’ ears. Adjusting a bit in the seat, he tilts his head so he can see his face better. He’d felt so tired earlier when Louis was wide awake, but now it seems they’ve switched. 

Tightening his hold on Louis’ waist, he listens to the dull noise. He isn’t sure how much longer he can wait to tell him how he really feels, so he hopes the lyrics give him some sort of warning. 

And Louis just lays there quietly with Harry’s headphones in his ears while his eyes begin to close, smiling sleepily and totally unaware that he’s listening to the soundtrack of Harry falling in love with him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)


	7. 0.7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new york

_ Louis _

Louis knows what his kind gesture is going to be. 

It wasn’t really all that hard to figure it out, once he thought about it. Harry’s already forgiven him for everything, but Louis isn’t one for leaving a checklist unfinished. He’s not quite sure of how he’s going to pull it off but his heart is too set on it now to do anything else. It’s also going to use up the rest of his money, he’s pretty sure, but he thinks it’ll be worth it. 

Their next stop, and the next place they’ll have internet connection, is where they’ll be staying in New York. No matter how much he refreshes the page, Louis has no signal, which he does  _ not _ have time for if he’s going to pull this off successfully. For some odd reason he’d thought that Ebay would be immune to wireless connection. It isn’t. 

After they’d finally woken up that morning, Liam tells them that they’re stopping in at another place to eat when they’re farther down the road. Louis is forced to pocket his phone when Harry hooks his head over his shoulder when they get there. 

He’s had Harry’s headphones in his ears since the night before, listening to one of his playlists on repeat. He’d told Harry to choose anything he liked for him to listen to, and he hadn’t disappointed. He’d fallen asleep during it last night, so he asks Harry if he can listen to it again today to make sure he heard all of them. 

As much as the old Louis would’ve hated to admit it, Harry really did have fantastic taste. Louis can tell why he wanted to study the subject. 

When breakfast is over, he has to suffer through several more hours of wifi-less cities before they pull into their hotel, and he breathes a sigh of relief when they finally come to a stop. Clambering over the seats to get out, he has to apologize to Harry for almost kicking him in the face in his hurry. 

He glances at the help desk as Liam checks them in.  _ Free Wi-fi! _ It reads. 

_ Fantastic _ , he thinks. 

“Lou, you coming?” 

Harry’s voice gets him to turn around, but he shakes his head. 

“I think I’m going to check out the store down here and then I’ll be up,” he smiles in what he hopes is a convincing way. 

Liam and Harry turn to step on to the lift, but Niall glances confusedly at him for a few seconds before Louis waves him off and then he goes, too. 

Once he’s sure they’re gone, Louis crosses the hall to the room that has computers lining the walls. He could probably do this on his phone, but it has to be done correctly - he refuses to mess this up. The seat is warm when he sits down in it, but he only cringes for a second before shaking it off and logging in with his guest information. He has to be  _ fast _ . 

Pulling up the page he was looking at earlier, he reaches down for his wallet to get his credit card as it loads, inputting the payment details as soon as it pops up on the screen. 

He sets the shipping speed to ASAP and copies down the address Niall had slipped him earlier for Harry’s flat. It won’t arrive over the next couple of days like he’d been hoping and he won’t get to give it to Harry in person, but he’ll take it. 

When he presses  _ confirm _ he exhales visibly, his body relaxing more against the chair. 

He picks up his bag again and heads to the lift. As he goes, he pulls out his phone and finds the note he’d made days before, putting a check mark next to  _ kind gesture _ and grinning. 

——

“Zayn’s going to be a bit late, so we have a little longer until I have to go meet him,” Liam says later, when he steps back in from talking to Zayn. 

Niall brightens, sitting up, “We should go see the Statue of Liberty, then.” 

“Okay! That sounds great, Ni.” 

In the few hours since they’d checked in, everyone took turns showering and napping, but Louis hadn’t been able to fall asleep. Harry, however, is still very tired, letting out little puffs of air against his leg while he sleeps. His head is in Louis’ lap, making his sweatpants damp from his shower earlier. He runs his hand through the curls there anyway and scratches slightly, watching Harry tilt his head up into his hand with a soft smile. 

“Harry,” he whispers, trying to lull him awake. 

He makes a noncommittal sound and turns his nose further into Louis’ leg. 

“Hazza, c’mon,” he laughs. 

That has Harry freezing, slowly peeling open one eye to glance up at him, and his voice comes out rough when he speaks. 

“What did you just call me?” 

What? He hadn’t called Harry anything. He’d just said -  _ oh _ . 

“Oh, sorry. It just slipped out -” 

Harry sits up abruptly, taking Louis’ face in his hands and shaking his head. 

“No, that isn’t what I meant. You just,” he smiles, “you’ve never called me that before. ‘S nice. I like it.” 

And then Harry’s kissing him, and Louis panics for second before he puts a hand on the back of his neck and kisses back. 

Niall and Liam are nowhere to be seen when his eyes flicker back open, but Louis hadn’t heard them leave. He bites his lip and pushes on Harry’s chest. 

“Let’s go, Niall wants to see the Statue of Liberty before Zayn gets here.” 

Harry still doesn’t really let go of him, drags him to the bathroom and holds his hand while he brushes his teeth with the other, and then wraps his arms around Louis’ waist on the lift downstairs despite Liam and Niall standing next to them. 

It’s nice. Louis isn’t much used to public displays of affection. He always sort of thought he’d be against it for the way it makes him uncomfortable when others do it, but their friends don’t seem too put off so Louis shrugs and moves in closer to Harry’s chest. 

The Statue of Liberty isn’t far from their hotel, which Louis’ sure Liam planned on purpose. They decide to walk instead of driving since it’s so nice outside, much to Niall’s distaste. It’s like San Francisco all over again when he starts whining in Louis’ ear about how much his feet hurt, except this time when he leans his head back to roll his eyes he sees Harry, laughing and talking with Liam, and it brightens his mood all over again. 

But then again, it sort of hurts. 

They’ve got two days here, and then everything stops. Forty-eight hours until Louis will have to go back to being a real adult with responsibilities and a job and a family to provide for. He won’t have time to worry about friends or romance, would even be lucky if he gets time to himself at all. Louis used to think that it was just the way life worked - it was unfair, and it wasn’t always pleasant but there was nothing that could be done about it. Over the past few weeks, he wants to test that. 

Harry, for instance, has his mum and sister who support him no matter what. They’re always there if he needs to talk and he knows he can depend on them, not just the other way around. Louis loves his family more than anything, but sometimes he wishes he could be a part of Harry’s, too. If even just for a bit, just to see what it’s like. 

Meeting family seems like a big step, though, and that isn’t really something Louis can ask him for. Not when they’re still in this weird gray area between friends and something more. Harry’s never judged him for anything he’s done, but Louis’ still hesitant, still waiting for one day when he’ll push him too far or ask for too much or annoy him to the point of no return. It’s happened with everyone else, inevitably. He really hopes it doesn’t with Harry. 

The clock had been ticking this whole time, but when they’d left Louis didn’t really have a care for his existential footprint, focused more on just getting through the day rather than actually enjoying it. This whole caring thing had left him in a bit of a predicament. 

There isn’t really a line for pictures when they get there like Louis thought there would be, people are just scattered around randomly, posing in front of their cameras with their friends. Before Louis can fully take it all in, Liam’s already turned around asking a man behind them if he could take their picture. 

“ C’mon, line up. Yeah, no I’m between you guys. Niall, get on the end. Okay, everybody hold hands and smile!” Liam bounces around between each of them, excitedly placing them in his own order. Coincidentally, or, knowing Liam, completely on purpose, Louis is placed strategically next to Harry in the formation. He reaches down to take Harry’s hand, happy for an excuse to hold it without sneaking around. 

Niall’s already shouldered off his jacket to expose his bright red _ I LOVE NEW YORK!  _ shirt, a stark contrast to the rest of their primarily black outfits, but Liam doesn’t even seem to notice. He situates him to his liking and then poses, smiling. 

He’s always hated pictures but Harry’s been warming him up to the idea, so Louis takes a deep breath and gives his best smile as the man holding Liam’s phone begins to count down from three. Right as he’s about to hit the button, he feels Harry squeeze his hand once, twice, then three times. Louis glances up at him just in time for the flash to go off. 

“Do you want another one, or…?” The man steps forward to hand the phone back to Liam. 

“Yes, please, I- ” 

Before Louis can tell them he hadn’t been looking, Liam’s already waving goodbye to the man. Louis turns to Harry. 

“Did you do that on purpose?” He whispers. 

“Did I do what on purpose?” 

He huffs and turns away at Harry’s faux innocence, back toward the others. Liam is already staring at him questioningly when he does, the phone clutched in one of his hands. Louis shifts from foot to foot under his heavy gaze and glances down at his hands. He knows he probably looks awful in the photo, but does Liam really have to  _ stare _ at him like that? 

It all goes by fast after that, because Liam’s got to get to the airport to pick Zayn up. They stop at a convenience store to get snacks and Niall stays out, exploring the shops while Harry and Louis go back to the room. 

“What should we do?” Louis asks, already smiling when they pass through the threshold. 

“Whatever you want, love.” 

Louis blushes. He  _ really _ likes it when Harry calls him that. Harry probably doesn’t even think twice about it, but it makes Louis feel looked after and cared about and he’s putty in his hands whenever he says it. Louis’ pretty much equally affected by anything else he says, too, but even more so with this one. 

Any free time they’d had before now seemed silly to waste on anything but stealing kisses and squeezing in every last bit of romance they could before one of the others came back, but Louis doesn’t feel like that’s necessary anymore. They’re already pretty obvious anyway. 

“We should go to Central Park,” is what he tells Harry, making up his mind. 

“Really?” He grins, “That would be fun.” 

Louis nods, “You should bring your camera, too. And a blanket, like last time.” 

Giddy at the idea of another date, Harry’s got everything ready to go in just a few minutes, and Louis giggles at his excitement on the way downstairs. 

Central Park is a bit further away than the Statue of Liberty was, but Louis doesn’t mind having to ride the tube as long as Harry’s there with him. 

“Maybe we’ll get there in time to watch the sun go down,” Louis tugs on his sleeve. 

He doesn’t actually say anything back, but the way Harry looks down at him after he says it makes his face color again. They hold eye contact for a good minute, until Louis’ self-conscious and someone behind them is clearing their throats. Then they step onto the bus, hand-in-hand. 

Louis thought it would be difficult to feel this comfortable around someone, but he’s enjoying being pleasantly surprised. Even with all of the people around them, the guy two rows back who looks like he could potentially be a serial killer and the two women fighting up at the front, Louis feels perfectly safe under Harry’s arm. 

Part of the intensity has got to be a delayed exaggeration, like his brain is so excited about being close with someone just because it’s something he’s never experienced before. But there’s a bigger, more overpowering part that seems like he fell so hard so fast because he was already halfway there to begin with. This time, when that thought enters his brain, he doesn’t even fight it. 

The thirty minutes they spend on sitting on the rough plastic seat is forgotten fairly quickly, once they step out and begin walking toward the park. 

Louis had been right - they do make it before sunset. For Harry’s sake, he’s excited to watch it go down. It’s another place that Louis expects to be overflowing with people, but it isn’t. It’s fairly calm, and it’s easy to find a spot to lay out their blanket underneath one of the trees away from any crowds of people. 

“Here,” Harry hands him his camera while he unfolds the blanket and tries to spread it out over the grass. 

While he isn’t looking, Louis fumbles with the heavy lens before aiming it at Harry, flicking it on and taking a burst of photos before Harry can stop him. 

“Hey,” he whines. 

Louis just laughs. He pulls the camera back to click through the shots, and raises his eyebrows at his photography skills. They aren’t all that bad, and the lighting makes Harry look even more wonderful than Louis thinks he already is. He hands the camera back. 

“Don’t delete those,” he points menacingly, “I want them.” 

Harry rolls his eyes and tackles him down beside him, leaning back against a tree to prop them up. 

“Your turn,” he says, aiming the lens at Louis. 

Instead of his usual blush, Louis strikes a pose and smiles for the camera, giggling when Harry snaps several quick shots at once of him laughing. Once he’s calm, he sits down in the space between Harry’s legs and pulls his arms around his stomach. 

To everyone else around them right now, Harry and Louis probably look like a couple. He glances over across the way and makes accidental eye contact with a woman, and he wonders what she’s thinking. Maybe that they’re a new couple out on a date? Or do they look like more than that, like this is the fifteenth or twentieth date they’ve been on? Maybe they even look like they’re living together, or have pets, or something else ridiculous like that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Harry kisses the side of his head. 

“That woman over there,” he nods toward her. 

“Okay,” Harry pauses, “Do you just like her top or is there something you need to tell me?” 

Laughing, Louis hits him on the arm. 

“No, you dork,” he smiles shyly, sombering, “I was thinking about how she sees us right now.” 

He feels Harry nod above his head. 

“Like,” Louis feels him swallow, “like together, you mean?” 

“Yeah.” 

Harry’s hesitation is obvious, like he isn’t sure of how to reply, so Louis doesn’t push him for anything else. He’s still trying not to bring up anything about after the trip. 

Because of the way he’s treated him in the past, Louis feels like it’d be unfair of him to ask for anything else in the future. He’d decided a while back that Harry should take the control on this one. Harry’s great at being logical and making decisions and Louis’ good at following after, so this should be no different. 

The conversation feels like it ends a bit prematurely, but Louis also doesn’t know if he would’ve been able to handle some cosmic, existential discussion at the moment. He knows Harry believes in fate, and Louis hadn’t before, but after all of the coincidences they’ve uncovered over the past few days he’s starting to reconsider. It all makes his head hurt a little. 

“My favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry,” is what Louis says to break the tense silence, instead of anything he’s actually thinking. 

Harry’s laugh bubbles up from his chest, echoing underneath Louis’ head, “Okay,” he says questioningly. 

“Now you go,” Louis elbows him. 

“Alright, just ice cream flavor or anything?” 

He takes a moment to consider before he answers him. 

“Anything.” 

And so they play an extended version of twenty questions until nightfall. It’s all useless information, but on their first unofficial date Harry had just let Louis go on and on about himself and now it’s his turn. The back and forth turns into just Harry eventually, while Louis settles between his legs with his back to his chest and listens. 

It shocks him a bit, how much he wants to know all of this trivia about Harry. How closely he’s paying attention, like he’s going to have to take a pop quiz after this. And it’s pointless, because when is knowing Harry’s favorite color or worst childhood memory or birthmark placement ever going to help him in life, but he stays completely silent anyway, memorizing all he can. 

The steady, calming vibrato of Harry’s voice is cut short when his phone starts ringing beside them on the blanket. He sets his chin on top of Louis’ head and answers. 

“Hello?” 

Louis isn’t sure, but he thinks it’s Liam on the other end of the call. 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll send you our location. Alright, bye.” 

“Liam?” Louis asks, tilting his chin up. 

Harry nods, his face illuminated in the light from his phone, “He says they’re all back at the hotel but they wanted to do something. Asked where we were. I hope it’s okay if they come here?” 

“Of course.” 

Just because he can and because their alone time is coming to an end soon, Louis sits up and shifts around, placing a leg on either side of Harry’s and kissing him before he can fully get their location sent to Liam. 

“Hmmph,” he sounds surprised at first, but then Harry’s setting the phone down and threading a hand through Louis’ hair comfortably and setting the other on his thigh. He tastes a bit like the bag of candy they’d shared earlier at the hotel, but Louis thinks he’s probably that sweet anyway. 

When his fear of public indecency kicks in a few minutes later, he pulls away and resumes his previous position. 

Harry’s completely still behind him, hands frozen in the air where he was touching Louis. 

“Harry,” he says. 

“Huh?” 

“Liam. Address.” 

“Oh,” he startles, “yeah.” 

The smile on Louis’ lips spreads quickly, and then he’s laughing, happy and sort of strung up with anxiety about the next few days, but mostly just incredibly content. 

If all of this ends badly, if Harry never wants to see him again when they get back to London, at least Louis will have all of these moments to look back on. He’ll have gotten to experience so many things that he was sure he’d never have been able to before, which makes all of it so much more worth it. 

The tall lamp posts lining the trails around them light up a minute later, and it’s not really dark enough yet to need it but Louis still takes a moment to appreciate them. They highlight the colors of the trees and make it easier for him to make out all of the sharp edges of Harry’s face above him. 

Harry links their fingers together in Louis’ lap, their friendship bracelets lining up when he sets down their hands. It actually makes Louis want to cry for a second, but he pushes it down. He’s been like that lately, where any little thing could set him off. The relationship Louis has with his emotions is a complicated one. 

Some days he’s affected by everything - something as simple as a change in tone of voice or his shoe being untied could make him so upset that he stays inside the rest of the day. Other days, he’s so numb that nothing really affects him, no matter how severe. He’s been so accustomed to sadness that being as happy as he is now had seemed impossible, and he’s grateful that he gets to ride this high while he has it, but he’s afraid that when he gets home it’ll be even harder to go back to normal and he’s already having a hard time adjusting. 

“Louis,” Harry says. 

Glancing up at him, Harry’s face throws him off for a second. Something’s wrong - he can tell as much from the way he’s staring down at Louis’ chin with a furrowed brow, mouth open but not saying a word. 

Harry slowly but surely had been teaching him that it was okay to show emotion, and Louis is consistently surprised when he actually feels better a lot of the time afterward. When he gets home he’s going to have to try and remember that. Harry clears his throat. 

“I-” 

“There you guys are!” Niall yells, skipping over to them from a few feet away. 

Liam smiles ruefully, “I hope we didn’t intrude on anything.” 

“No, not at all,” Harry says, but makes no move to get Louis off of his lap. 

Blushing slightly, Louis looks up from his spot to greet them. He’ll have to ask Harry what he was going to say later. 

“Hey, Zayn,” he waves. 

“What’s up, Louis, Harry,” he nods, sitting down next to Liam on the edge of the blanket. 

“We brought food!” Pulling out a paper bag, Niall sets everything out in the middle of the group. 

The sandwiches are surprisingly good, probably from somewhere Niall knew about beforehand, and Louis eats his quickly as his stomach begins to grumble. Embarrassingly, Harry only finishes half of his and Louis eats that, too (straight from Harry’s hand, which, thankfully, no one says anything about). 

He’s struck once again by a bout of faux nostalgia when he swallows the last bite. They’re all here again, hanging out like they’ve been friends forever. It could've been so easy,  _ should’ve _ been so easy, if not for Louis creating some great divide in their closeness. Zayn still has his friendship bracelet on, even. 

But tonight doesn’t really feel like a melancholic type thing, so he thinks about how much fun he’s having instead, watching Niall scarf down his own sandwich and Zayn making Liam all flustered when he thinks no one is looking. He turns his body sideways so Harry’s cradling him and fits his head into the warm space between his neck and chest. 

“Alright, love?” Harry asks. 

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, smiling, “perfect.” 

——

Niall takes the couch when they arrive back at the hotel, and doesn’t bother grabbing any pillows or blankets before he’s falling into it and passing out within seconds. He’s such a good friend, Louis thinks. 

Liam and Zayn have the bed closest to the window, and he and Harry have the other. Harry’s already changed, plugging in his phone and getting ready for an early night, but Louis isn’t tired yet. He tells him that he’s going to step out and take a call and he’ll be back. 

Lottie’s text had been bothering him since he’d gotten it, weighing on his brain and making to difficult to sleep. That’s why he’d been up so early when Harry found him two days ago, all hooded eyes and slow movements, exhausted but too wired to fall asleep. 

Laying next to him last night had helped tremendously. Louis’d gotten to rest for the full night and didn’t wake up once. He could probably do that now, too, but he thinks he’ll feel better if he just calls anyway. 

From a quick Google search, he knows that it’s late in London, but Lottie stays up until then so he calls anyway, stepping out into the hallway and putting the phone up to his ear. 

“Hello?” She answers. 

“Hey, Lots. What’s up?” 

She shuffles a bit, “Nothing much, just settling down to go to sleep in a bit.” 

“Nice,” Louis winces at himself, “Did you want to talk to me about something or,” he trails off. He’d been planning on staying out here, but he’s got nervous energy buzzing through him so he takes the lift down to the ground floor and walks the halls. 

“Oh, yeah! I did. I probably should’ve just texted you but I wanted to hear your reaction,” she laughs. 

Louis braces himself for anything she’s about to say. It’s got to be either money she needs, or something about their grandparents, or - 

“I got the job! They called me in on Friday to tell me that they noticed how well I’ve been doing and they want to hire me full time.” 

Louis listens, slack-jawed, as she goes on. 

“I’ll have to move out there, but I can finally help with the money, Lou. I think it’ll be really, really great.” 

He doesn’t even try to hide his sob. 

“Louis?” She says, “Oh no, what’s wrong?” 

“No, no! Nothing, I -” he laughs, “I’m so, so happy for you, Lots. You’ve wanted this for so long, I’m so proud of you.” 

“Lou,” she whines, “you’re going to make me cry.” 

He can’t stop smiling. He knows how bad Lottie wanted this, and she’s actually managed to make it happen despite all of the reasons she could have quit. He is  _ so _ proud of her. 

“So, I was thinking I can get an account set up here that goes to the same one you have for Gran, and -” 

“No,” Louis shakes his head, “That’s your money, Lottie. You’ve earned it. It’s for your flat and anything else you’re going to need while you’re down there. This is your dream, Lots, I’m not going to take it away from you.” 

Now she really is crying, Louis can hear her try to muffle it through the speaker. He takes a turn down the main hall and walks past the pool. He stops. 

“Thank you, Louis. I really am going to figure something out once I get going, though. They’re paying me really well.” 

“I’m so happy for you,” he says again. He means it. 

Louis knows she probably thinks that he’s happy because of the income, but none of that could compare to how ecstatic it makes him hearing her that excited. He’d been so scared for so many years that none of them would be able to get back to normal, that they’d lose their interests and passions while they were stuck at home without parents or an older brother, but he’s never been happier to be wrong. 

The window looking into the pool area takes up nearly the whole wall, and he stands in front of it for a few seconds. It’s dark, and everything seems lonely. Louis tries to picture himself sitting in there, crying, like the first night of the trip. It seems like ages ago now. Like a different person, almost. 

“Louis?” Lottie’s voice shakes him out of his reverie. 

He starts walking back toward the lift, feeling better and significantly less anxious. On the way, Louis asks about the rest of their siblings. Lottie relays everything she knows, but says she hasn’t been home in a bit. Each of them are doing their own thing, and the way she speaks about them makes him feel like he hadn’t messed up. Going to uni may have been the right path after all. 

“Well, I’m going to get some sleep now,” she says, “I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow.” 

“You should have told me,” he says sternly, then softens his voice, “I’ll talk to you later, okay? I want updates.” 

She agrees, laughing. 

“It was really nice talking to you, Lou.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, it was,” he pauses, “I love you, Lottie.” 

“Love you too, Louis.” 

The line goes dead after her reply, but Louis doesn’t move from his spot against the hallway wall when it does, smiling dopily. 

He stays out there until much later, when Harry steps out to see if he’s okay. Louis tackles him in a hug. 

“Did you have a good call?” Harry grins, huffing out a laugh into Louis’ neck. 

“Lottie got the job,” he leans back to look at him. 

“That’s fantastic, Lou,” he cheers, “I bet she’s stoked. You must be so proud of her.” 

Louis kisses him again, with no finesse and teeth clinking together, but he can’t stop because he’s smiling so wide. Harry doesn’t seem to mind, kissing him back just as eagerly and wiping the rest of his happy tears from his face. 

And if this is the price Louis has to pay for feeling all of his emotions tenfold, if he gets to feel this happiness even just a sliver of the time, he’s perfectly okay with it. 

——

The twenty-eighth of September is cold, and Louis spends most of the morning burrowed into Harry’s sweater. Harry’d woken him up early, before any of the others, and whispered to him to get dressed and meet him outside. 

Louis thinks about just going back to sleep, but this is their last full day and he’s not going to waste a single second of it. 

He dresses in the dark, pulling together an outfit he hopes is acceptable to Harry and heading out the door to meet him downstairs. 

“What’s this about?” 

Harry spins around to face him with a smile on his face, reaching out for his hand. 

“C’mon,” he says, “our appointment is in thirty minutes.”

“Okay, now I’m officially scared.”

The laugh that Harry gives him is meant to be sinister, but he just sounds like an idiot so Louis laughs with him. They’re both quiet on the walk, Harry’s humming a song and Louis leans in to listen while he looks inside of the shop windows they pass by. 

Harry’s glittery gold boots come to a stop in front of a smaller building, and Louis looks above them to see the name on the sign.  _ Studio 28 Tattoos _ is branded across the front, black and slightly menacing, and Louis turns to look at Harry for an explanation. 

“You don’t have to get one, but I’m going to get a tattoo for, like, the trip. I went ahead and made two appointments just in case, but you really don’t have to,” Louis cuts him off by pressing their lips together, and he can feel Harry’s smile widening underneath his hands. 

“I love that,” he whispers, “I love this. What are you getting?”

“I’ll show you,” Harry pulls Louis into the shop behind him. 

He greets the man like he already knows him even though they’ve only talked on the phone, Louis watching from the side. Now that he actually knows Harry, it’s nice to see him interact with other people. He’s always so kind and mature, and whoever he’s talking to is always sort of entranced by the way he articulates his words. Louis doesn’t blame them. 

Louis’ got a few tattoos, but none of them really mean much to him. They’d all been the results of drunken nights out and his friends had chosen them for him. He’s excited to be able to pick one that feels like  _ him _ . 

Once they’re all checked in, the guy working behind the desk hands Harry the book of designs. 

“You still wanted this one, right?” He points to something Louis can’t see. 

“I think so. Can I have a second to look it over, though?” 

The man nods and goes back to finishing up someone elses tattoo, telling them to have a seat. 

“Which one was he talking about?” 

When he sees the full page, he thinks he knows which one Harry’s going to pick before he even says anything. Or, he hopes it’s the one he’ll pick. 

A very small, black outline of a house is at the bottom corner, situated in a place that most people would probably miss it, but it’s the first thing Louis notices. 

“Which one is your favorite?” Harry whispers. 

Louis points to it. 

“Really?” Harry grins, “That’s the one I picked.” 

And there they go again, being all soulmate-y and making Louis feel like it’s meant to be. He pokes a finger in Harry’s dimple and smiles when Harry gets up to tell him they’re ready. 

Every time he’s been in a tattoo room he’s been too out of it to notice any of the details. Already though, it seems like this place is a lot nicer than any of the others he’s been in. Louis sits on a sofa to the side while Harry gets comfortable in the chair. 

This will also be the first time he’s getting a tattoo without the thick layer of alcohol over his senses, and he’s afraid of the pain a bit. But Harry looks very natural, comfortable, making small talk with the man while he prepares the tattoo. Harry’s tattoos are fascinating to look at, and Louis’ enjoying examining them while he’s got his shirt off under the harsh overhead light. 

He decides to go with a spot on his arm that’s empty, on the inside where it’s easily visible when he’s moving. 

“Alright, sounds good,” the man furrows his brows and spins his chair around to face Harry again, “Did you still want to do the other one as well?” 

Harry’s face colors a bit and he avoids eye contact with Louis, nodding. 

“Yeah, that one, too. Right above the other.” 

Louis decides not to ask about it, just watches as Harry’s skin is cleaned and prepped for placement. When the needle starts moving, the only complaint Harry has is a quick twitch of his eye, and then he’s leaning his head back to smile softly, reassuringly, at Louis over the man’s head. 

It’s done in just a few minutes, both of Harry’s tattoos, and they’re sanitized and bandaged before Louis can see them properly. 

“Your turn, Lou,” Harry stands up, letting him sit down in the chair. Swallowing, Louis tries to look brave. 

He doesn’t, apparently, because Harry never moves from beside him as he starts working on it, offering his other hand for Louis to hold on to. He squeezes his eyes shut and counts to ten over and over to distract himself as Harry tightens his grip, and then it’s over. 

When he looks down, there’s a tiny house on his arm. Right where Harry’s is, just below the inside crease of his elbow. He giggles happily. 

“You like it?” 

Nodding, he gets it bandaged while Harry goes back out front to pay. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t get the other tattoo,” the man says while he’s applying the wrap, when it’s just them in the room. 

“Oh, yeah,” Louis says awkwardly, “what is it that he got, again?” 

He turns around to grab the black book again, tapping his finger over the one Harry picked, “This one.” 

It’s another small one, just an outline, and it sort of looks like it was made to go with the house. Louis’ glad he didn’t get it, though. 

He’s never loved the sun as much as Harry, anyway. 

——

They’re going to see Times Square today. It isn’t that Louis is disappointed, he wants to see the landmarks, but he also just wants to stay in with Harry all day and spend their last twenty-four hours undisturbed, wrapped up in each other before they have to part ways. 

If Harry minds him being so clingy, he hasn’t said anything. Part of him had been afraid of this, like once he knew it was okay to outwardly show affection he wouldn’t ever want to stop, but he doesn’t think it’s been this bad until now. He feels like he has good reason, at least. 

But Harry also seems slightly sweeter today, slowing down to walk at Louis’ pace wherever they go and stroking his fingers up and down his skin when they stop. 

His point is that he’s pretty sure that whatever this anxious, borderline-needy feeling is, Harry’s feeling it, too. It’s the only explanation, really, because the other ninety-nine percent of the time Harry is laid back and easy going. He’s rarely ever strung up or unsure of himself, like he is today. Louis doesn’t want him to feel that way, but he has to admit it’s refreshing to know he’s not alone. 

They’ll be out all day, because apparently Times Square is more fun when it’s dark outside, but Louis’ determined to make it through without being a complete bother. He isn’t sure if he’s succeeding. 

“Cold?” Harry asks, pulling him further underneath his coat. 

At least Harry hasn’t gotten tired of him yet. 

Louis shakes his head in disagreement, but burrows into the warm spot anyway. Harry chuckles warmly. 

The hours are passing by so slowly that Louis’ having trouble keeping track of the time, which he isn’t sure is a good or bad thing. 

“Oi, is no one going to offer me their jacket?” Niall asks, glancing back and forth between the pairs. 

Zayn is the only one who answers him, laughing, “I think we can make enough room.”

He lifts up the side of his jacket Liam isn’t under and raises a brow, but Niall rolls his eyes and sits back against his chair. 

Louis’ hot chocolate is sitting in front of his face, still hot from when the waitress brought it over a few minutes ago. He stirs it absentmindedly. He doesn’t understand why they can’t just go and see Times Square and then do what they want like the other days, but Louis realizes in his Harry-haze he hasn’t seen much of the others over the last week so he should probably try to make an effort. 

“Did you bring your camera?” 

Harry nods, “Yeah, why?” 

“I want some pictures tonight when we get there.”

“Okay,” Harry smiles at him. 

He won’t have anyone to show them to, won’t get them printed to hang on the wall or anything, but Louis wants a reminder later that all of it wasn’t just his imagination. 

And he also maybe wants to set them as his lock screen. He doesn’t tell Harry that part. 

“When do you head back, Zayn?” Niall asks, “Same time as us?” 

“I’ll head out a few hours before you guys so I can get back for work,” he says. 

Liam frowns but keeps silent, taking another sip of his drink while Niall nods. Louis knows he’s probably feeling something very similar to how he’s panicking about Harry. A selfish part of him points out that at least Liam has the guarantee of a relationship in the future, but he pushes the thought down. They both deserve to be happy, even if Liam’s happiness is much more attainable than his own. 

It feels like another few years have passed when Liam slides out of the booth in front of Zayn, leading everyone to the shops next door to waste some more time. 

Louis trudges on behind Harry. Niall must sense that he’s annoyed because he smirks and moves into step with him as Liam calls Harry to look at something across the store. 

There’s a terribly offensive scent of a candle when they walk in, and Louis has to resist the urge to cover his nose with his hand when the shop worker turns to welcome them. The stuffed animal Louis’ pretending to be fascinated with is soft in his hands when Niall starts talking and he kneads it like a stress reliever. 

“Bummed about leaving tomorrow?” 

Niall keeps his gaze ahead of him just like Louis, but glances at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“Yes,” Niall laughs. 

They move down the aisle, away from the toys and toward the shirts and souvenirs. The bright colors catch his eye, but Louis still thinks they’re all tacky. 

“You’ll still see him,” Niall pauses, “you know, after we go home.” 

“How do you know that, Ni?”

There isn’t any point in denying it now, he figures, since Niall’s always been able to read him like an open book. Everyone thinks he isn’t smart, but sometimes he’s got Louis convinced that he knows more about how the human brain works than even he does. Or maybe he’s just the only friend Louis’ had around consistently for more than a year and it’s obvious when he’s in a bad mood. 

Either way, he could use some advice. 

“I don’t know it for sure, but I have eyes, mate. I can see the way you guys are with each other.” 

Louis blushes and looks down at his feet, “How we are?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, “like a proper couple, you two.”

He tries unsuccessfully to hide his smile with a quick turn of his head, but Niall catches it. 

“Be honest,” Louis points, “did you guys plan this trip so we would learn how to be around each other?” 

“No, we planned the trip so Liam could meet up with Zayn,” he starts to smile, “but then I had the brilliant idea to see what would happen if we stuck you and Harry together for a month and, well, look at you now.” 

Louis slaps him in the chest. 

“Yeah, look at me, freaking out about having to give up the only good thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“You’re so dramatic,” Niall rolls his eyes. 

“I mean it, Niall. I don’t know what to do,” he whines, “help me.” 

He seems to realize Louis’ serious then, taking his eyes off of the mug he was holding and turning to face Louis. 

“I don’t know about you, Lou, but Harry seems like he’s in pretty deep. I’ve known him for three years now and he’s liked you for all of them.” 

“You knew?” Louis squeaks. 

“Everybody knew. He was super obvious about it.”

Well that just makes him feel even more guilty. 

“Look, Lou. Just be honest with him. Harry’s a great guy and you guys are really great together. There’s no reason for any of this to be difficult, but I’m sure you’ll find a way,” he snickers. 

Louis hits him again. 

“C’mere,” Niall pulls him into a hug, “Jus’ tell him how you feel.” 

He breathes in deeply in the material of Niall’s shirt, reassured from his advice but still buzzing with an anxious thrum. 

“I love him, you know.” 

Niall just hugs him tighter, and doesn’t even sound the least bit surprised when he replies. 

“I know,” he says. 

He gets a few more moments of calm before Niall’s pushing him away rather abruptly. Louis glances up at him, confused. 

“You’re my best mate but Harry keeps lookin’ over here and glaring at me and he’s walking over here now so I’m just going to -” he pats Louis awkwardly on the shoulder and shuffles around the corner out of sight. 

Louis laughs, then smiles when he feels Harry’s hands circle his waist. 

“Everything okay?” 

He nods, “Niall was just talking about how he’s glad we’re all friends now.” 

Turning him around and kissing his forehead, Harry grins, wrapping a finger around Louis’ bracelet. 

“Me, too.” 

——

Times Square isn’t everything Louis thought it would be, but it’s still cool. It’s another place that makes him feel small. 

This time though, he feels small in a way that directly compliments the way Harry seems to stand a bit taller when they’re standing in the middle of the crosswalk. The same way Louis exhales as Harry sucks in a big breath of cool air. 

Every building around them is at least a hundred times taller than he is, spreading out over the landscape and making it difficult to see anything over the smooth glass windows and televised billboards. This place is crowded, like how he thought the Statue of Liberty would be, and he keeps a tight hold on Harry’s hand when people brush past him on either side. 

They get to take their bandages off a bit later, Harry pulling him away from the others to look at their new tattoos properly. Louis can’t help his smile when he sees them together, the exact same placement, but with Harry’s sun over the top of his. 

“They’re perfect,” he tells him. 

Harry kisses him again. 

The sun has just gone down to the west of them, Harry pulling out his camera to snap a few shots of everything before it gets too dark. He takes one of Louis again, but he can feel it in the way Harry’s eyes somber a bit that he isn’t smiling anywhere near as wide as he was last night. 

He isn’t angry or sad, but he does feel more serious tonight. More like he just realized how important Harry is to him and how much he doesn’t want to have to give all of this up tomorrow. 

Usually, Louis doesn’t really think past the moment. He worries about the future, but doesn’t do too much to stop it’s inevitability. The past few days, he’s thought more about his future than he has in years. Will he see Harry again after this? If he doesn’t, will he find someone eventually or will he be alone forever? Would he even be able to find someone after having Harry? 

He’s a mess. And also probably extremely childish. He tries to tell himself that of course he’ll be able to find someone else. People have to move on from relationships every day. There are people that have one night stands without even knowing the name of the person they share the night with and are perfectly fine in the morning. Louis can’t picture himself doing that, but if other people can then there has to be a way. He won’t be alone forever. 

When he looks up at Harry, though, laughing, grinning wide with cheeks rosy from the wind, it sure seems like he’s ruined for anyone else. 

And he hasn’t even had all of him yet. 

He tugs on Harry’s sleeve to get his attention. 

“Can we,” he asks, “tonight?” 

“Can we what?” Harry’s eyebrows pull together and he looks concerned for a minute before it hits him. 

“Oh,” he says deeply, “ _ oh _ . Are you sure?” 

He can barely move his mouth to answer when Harry’s big hands come up to frame either side of his face, but he gets the words out through his smushed cheeks anyway. 

“Please.” 

For now, Harry kisses him, right on the lips, with their friends only a few feet away. Later, Louis hopes he’ll do much more than that. He soaks it all in while he can, because it sort of feels like New Years and Louis can only dream of getting Harry to stick around until then. He’ll settle for this, and he knows he’ll be replaying every second of it when he’s alone in his new apartment when the clock hits midnight on December thirty-first and everyone else is out partying. 

He’ll watch in slow motion behind his eyelids as Harry’s lips move slowly over his own, soft and chapped and pausing only to take in short breaths. He’ll pause when Harry’s hands move down to entwine with his own, holding on like he’s afraid to let go. And then he’ll press rewind when he pulls away. 

There will be obstacles, and their not-so-kept secret will definitely be out of the bag when they ask for a room to themselves, but right now Louis feels invincible and he thinks he owes almost all of that to Harry. He isn’t even embarrassed when he reaches up to kiss him again. 

“Oh yeah,” Liam says, pulling out several photos from his jacket pocket, “I forgot to give these to all of you earlier. I made them when I went to pick Zayn up.” 

Louis accepts his eagerly.  _ Finally _ , he thinks, the Statue of Liberty pictures. Now he can see if he really looks as horrid as Liam made it seem earlier. 

There they are. There’s Niall in his  _ I LOVE NEW YORK! _ shirt, making bunny ears behind Liam who’s sticking out his tongue, and they aren’t even holding hands! Louis blushes frustratedly at his own stupidity. 

And then there was Harry and himself, slightly apart from Liam and Niall, holding hands and standing shoulder to shoulder, or shoulder to cheek, more like, and Louis looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)


	8. 0.8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new york --> home

_ Harry _

On the ride back to the hotel, Harry’s frantic. He’s been with many other people before, but not Louis - no one even comes close. There isn’t any time to do this the right way, he can’t find any flower shops that are still open this late, and they can’t have a nice dinner before, but Louis seems just as impatient as he is so he doesn’t worry about the specifics too much. 

What he does worry about, however, is getting them a hotel room. If Liam and Zayn and Niall want to spend their last night together that’s fine, but he’d much rather spend his last few hours with Louis. 

He sends Liam a text on the way back, asking if he can distract the rest of them while he asks for another room. It won’t really matter later, when it’s obvious that they aren’t there, but he’s trying to save the last bits of his dignity before tonight. Liam is most likely to handle it the best and Harry trusts him, so he pockets his phone after the message is delivered and puts his arm around the back of Louis’ shoulders. 

He’d missed most of Times Square in Louis’ request, but he doesn’t even care. 

He’s buzzing with nervous energy but he’s calm all the same, struck with the reality of the situation. Louis is perfectly composed next to him, smiling up at him when he glances down and leaning his forehead against Harry’s shoulder. Harry thinks Louis should probably be a bit more nervous, but he’s glad he isn’t. 

When he’d ask him earlier, if they could be together tonight, Harry had nearly fallen over in the street. The implication had taken him a minute to process, but Louis seemed so sure of himself that Harry wouldn’t have dreamed of telling him no. It’s just a lot of pressure. He’s so happy that Louis trusts him enough to do this for him, but Harry knows if it isn’t perfect he’ll never forgive himself. 

Louis seems to have enough faith for the both of them though, so Harry sighs and tries to relax as they park in front of the hotel. Everything before now has fallen perfectly into place, so there isn’t any reason tonight wouldn’t be the same. 

He knows the exact moment Liam reads his text, head snapping up from his phone to meet his eyes with a blush. 

Liam clears his throat when they get into the lobby. 

“Hey, H, would you mind checking the shop to see if they have those candy bars I was telling you about?” He gestures vaguely to the front desk, “You can just bring it up whenever if they do.” 

Harry loves him so much. He nods and sends him a grateful look at the same moment Liam glances between him and Louis in a way that Harry thinks means  _ be careful with him _ . With a determined smile, he grabs Louis’ hand just as the rest of them are stepping onto the lift. 

There aren’t any questions asked when he requests another room, the woman just runs his card and hands him a new key and then they’re headed up. It’s not awkward, the silence, when Louis turns his face into Harry’s chest and breathes in and out. The lift doors slide open to an empty hallway where Harry wraps his arms around Louis from behind and leads him to their door. 

When the latch clicks shut behind them, Harry decides he can’t wait any longer. He’s on Louis in seconds, pushing their lips together and tugging uselessly at his clothes. Louis’ trembling against him, and he holds him close as he runs a hand through his hair, kissing the corner of his mouth and his forehead. 

“Harry,” He’s breathless as he whispers his name, clinging to the front of Harry’s shirt like he’s not sure what would happen if he let go. 

Harry just kisses him harder, cradling Louis’ face in his hands as he walks them backward toward the bed. He feels Louis’ knees hit the corner, and eases his body down onto the sheets, following him down. 

He tries not to stare, but he pulls apart from Louis anyway, his eyes moving from his swollen red mouth to the sweat gathering at his hairline. Harry brings a hand up to run his thumb across it, Louis’ jaw slack in his hands as he mewls. 

He kisses the salty skin next to his eye, then his cheek, then moves lower to his neck, where he knows Louis loves. His lips follow his smaller body as he writhes beneath him, and Harry’s satisfied that he’ll see a mark there tomorrow, wants to leave all sorts of reminders that he’s  _ Harry’s _ . 

In the back of his mind, Harry knows why they’re so needy for each other - they’re closing in on the final hours of the trip. After they go home, Louis has a family to provide for and Harry has to find a job and move back into the flat waiting for him in Cheshire. He wants to drink up every last bit of Louis he can before they have to part ways. 

There’s a small part of him that hopes they’ll stay in touch. They could facetime, call each other, text every day and fly in whenever they could. Harry already knows he would do everything he could to make this work. But now, it depends on Louis. 

His beautiful Louis, who looks up at him now, his hair tousled from Harry’s tugging and his pupils blown wide with something Harry hopes is love. 

He reaches a hand up to hold Louis’ smaller one, squeezing it three times before letting go. He hopes Louis will figure out what that means soon. 

Slowly, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and peels it over his head. Louis leans up on his elbows as Harry parts from him, desperate to feel his warm skin where the cold air was hitting him. 

Harry can feel his eyes on him as he undresses, sliding out of his clothes as fast as he can before lowering himself again. 

He’d imagined laying out flowers and candles for them in his head, maybe even paying extra to get them their own suite when he took Louis for the first time. He’d wanted to take his time and make this the most special night of Louis’ life. 

Tonight though, there seems to be an unspoken  _ need _ in the room, circling around them and suffocating them and making it hard to breathe when he’s not touching Louis’ skin. It has Harry sliding his hands up and down Louis’ arms, touching every part of him he can reach as he reconnects their lips. 

He’d taken care of Louis for the past month in many different ways, and he plans on doing the same thing now, on their last night together. 

Louis swallows, parting from Harry’s mouth. 

“I - Harry,” he whines. 

“My sweet boy,” Harry’s lips press against his cheek, “what is it?” 

Louis frowns for a minute, eyes closed and forehead wrinkling while he stutters. 

“Could you, I mean will you -” 

He cuts himself off again, seeming nervous as Harry runs his finger over his bottom lip in encouragement. Finally, like he’s just realized something, he opens his eyes wide and looks directly at Harry. 

“Make love to me?” 

The words fall from his lips in a way that has Harry freezing for a moment - innocent and soft and so, so sweetly, meant just for Harry. He smiles, eyes watering a bit. 

“Of course,” he kisses him, “of course I’ll make love to you.” 

He finds his rhythm again, Louis’ body trembling underneath his hands. He’s working his hips down into Louis’ just slightly, just enough to have Louis grabbing onto his back to pull him even closer. 

His spit trails from Louis’ lip to his own, keeping them connected, but Harry drags his mouth down to his chest anyway, mouthing at the area where his shirt meets his warm skin. He looks up at Louis questioningly. 

Louis nods, tensing as the air hits his lower stomach and his top is pulled up and off of him. Harry can tell he’s self conscious, but he smiles fondly at him as he lays back down onto the pillows, linking their fingers together once again in reassurance. 

Louis’ body is everything Harry’s ever wanted and he leans down to whisper as much in his ear. He’s small but he’s got curves all over, from his smooth jaw to the dip where his hips curve out. His arms lay next to him on the bed, and Harry leans down to press a kiss to his new tattoo with a grin. 

“Louis,” he whispers, “ _ my _ Louis.” 

There’s a moan that follows Harry’s words, loud and raw. Louis looks bashful afterward, but Harry just kisses the frown off of his lips before relocating to his chest. 

Louis’ nipples are hard and bright pink, heaving along with his chest and Harry takes his time teasing them, pinching one and biting the other, swirling his tongue around it afterward to soothe the ache that’s sure to follow. 

Harry manages to get a leg between Louis’ slightly open ones, pushing his prick down onto the material of Louis’ jeans through his boxers. He groans around Louis’ nipple in his mouth and bites harder, Louis’ back arching off of the sheets. 

He grabs him around the waist when he does, pulling him down the bed a bit and that much closer to his own body as he grinds down, sliding a light finger down to prod gently at Louis’ hole while he’s distracted. 

Harry can already hear the thick undertone in Louis’ voice, can picture the tears that are about to start leaking from his eyes. His mouth turns up as he switches sides, kissing deliberately across Louis’ chest. 

Crying was something that Harry previously always associated with something bad, and he was never sure what to do or how to comfort people in that position. Since he’d had Louis, he found that crying was, in some ways, both cathartic and unbelievably endearing. 

The thought of Louis, always holding his emotions back for the sake of others and trying to be strong even if he was in pain, being vulnerable enough to share that emotion with him was amazing. He was never emotionally open, so seeing him get so overwhelmed when Harry did the simplest things was a proper compliment. 

It was always such a massive  _ release _ with him. Like everything seemed to build up and up, the stress of everything else going on in their lives, but he had the power to make all of it drain out of Louis’ body with just a touch. All of the outside pressure melted away somewhere between their warm kisses and curious hands. It was one big adrenaline rush wrapped up in the sweetest package. 

He hopes Louis feels like he’s getting just as much of Harry in return, that he can tell just how long Harry's wanted to give him exactly that release and so much more. 

Harry takes his time opening him up, sliding his boxers completely off before laying down next to Louis, his arm supporting Louis’ head and linking their fingers together while Harry’s unoccupied hand finds its way back down to his hole. 

Louis’ mouth falls open as soon as he gets a digit inside with the help of some of the hotel’s lube he’d grabbed on the way to the bed, experimentally pushing in and out until there’s a comfortable slide and Louis’ forehead relaxes. Harry sees his face get bright red, even more than it already had been, and Louis turns to mouth at Harry’s fingers, wrapped around his own next to his cheek. He’s getting spit on his hand, but Harry lets him, nuzzling the side of his face with his nose. 

Louis moans, curling back into him, and for a moment Harry feels this overwhelming sense of protection for him. He covers Louis’ head with his own as Louis’ mouth falls open against the inside of his neck, moving his finger faster inside of him. 

Harry thinks the feeling comes from knowing that he’s about to take Louis’ virginity. He’s never been someone’s first time before. In high school he’d fooled around, but he always sort of pictured himself waiting to go all the way for the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. That plan didn’t pan out quite right, but Harry still remembers how it felt. The nerves of being with someone for the first time, the overwhelming sensations and, for Harry, the hollow feeling that usually came after the excitement faded away. 

Kissing Louis’ forehead, Harry makes a promise to himself. Louis will not leave here feeling empty or unsatisfied. No, he’ll leave feeling whole, warm, and hopefully, loved. Harry wants to tell him how much he loves him, shout it from the rooftops and watch his reaction. But Louis is fragile, and he needs time to work through his emotions before he expresses them. 

Harry will wait for him. 

Louis, apparently, will not. He works his hips up into Harry’s hands in short, punctuated movements, panting hot breath onto Harry’s skin. 

He runs their spit-soaked fingers across Louis’ cheek, easing a second finger in next to the first. There’s sweat on their foreheads already, Harry’s face sliding against his when their lips meet. 

Louis already looks debauched, angelic and dirty and beautiful all at once. Harry wonders how he got so lucky. The need to protect and take care of him is still very much present, but a deep sense of pride settles within his chest as Louis looks up at him, all trusting eyes, pliant body, and swollen lips. 

In the car on the way back, they’d spoken through short texts, passing Harry’s phone back and forth to type their responses. Louis’d asked him if he was clean and Harry nearly drooled at the insinuation. 

When he’d replied  _ yes _ , Louis had nodded at him like that was that, so Harry’d passed on grabbing a condom from the basket the hotel provided and tried to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. 

He swallows down the words he wants to say, settling for squeezing his hand harder as he adds a third and final finger, pushing them gently and quickly into Louis and spreading them out inside of him. 

A few minutes later, Louis’ grabbing at his arm, thrashing on the bed and moaning weakly as Harry crooks his fingers. 

“There?” 

“Oh,” Louis nods wordlessly, lip trembling as he tries to grind down on Harry’s hand. His eyes don’t leave Harry, even though he can tell that he’s having a hard time keeping them open from the way he’s shaking underneath him. 

Removing his fingers, Harry smiles sweetly at Louis when he whimpers at the loss. He kisses him one last time and untangles their hands, holding the back of Louis’ up to his cheek as he shifts on top of him. 

He knows it would probably be easier for Louis if he were on his tummy, but that doesn’t feel like them. He’d much rather be able to see his face, if Louis isn’t opposed. 

“You want it like this, love?” 

It takes a few seconds for Louis to realize that he’s being spoken to, staring up at Harry dazedly as he hovers over him with questioning eyes. 

“Yeah,” he says suddenly, “yes. Wanna see you.” 

His voice shakes all the way through, but Harry’s proud of him anyway, showing his teeth and telling him so. 

Louis comes back to himself a bit then, and Harry feels him tense up when he moves his cock to Louis’ entrance. He grabs his chin between his fingers. 

Every part of him wants to open his mouth and ask Louis if he’s okay, if he really wants this, but Louis’ told him countless times that he doesn’t want that. He wants Harry to  _ know _ , to take care of him and not have to ask.  _ That’s _ how much he trusts him. 

A bright, warm feeling blooms inside of his chest as he pushes inside of Louis for the first time, both of them losing their breath as he inches in slowly. Harry blindly lifts his hand to take Louis’ again, not moving his eyes from his. 

He waits until he can feel Louis relax around him, until his breathing returns back to almost normal, to begin moving softly in and out. 

The tears have started now, running down from Louis’ eyes and off the sides of his cheeks, soaking the pillow on either side of his head, but he’s not in pain. Harry can tell, can see it in the way he’s panting quietly, hooded eyes looking Harry directly in his own, biting his lip like he wants to scream at how good it feels. 

Harry can already tell he’s not going to last very long, focusing on taking long, deep strokes inside of Louis until he can find the right spot. Louis just looks up at him, unwavering and trusting and  _ perfect _ . Harry’s so proud of him. 

A month ago, he would have never imagined this happening. Harry’s hit by a wave of emotion. He begins to tear up himself at how lucky they got, how much he would have missed out on if he’d said no to the trip like he wanted to, like how Louis probably wanted to, too. 

But now he’s here, underneath Harry as he makes love to him, laid out and trembling. Vulnerable and so, so strong, allowing Harry to see him like this. Harry loves him  _ so _ much. 

As soon as he finds the right angle, Louis shouts, sobbing loudly, and pulls Harry down to him by his shoulders. Harry positions his hips to keep hitting him there, where Louis needs it. He moves a hand down to touch Louis’ cock, get him closer so that he won’t know Harry is so close to coming inside of him, but Louis grabs his wrist to stop him. 

“No, I - I can’t. I won’t,” he stutters, “won’t last.” 

Harry drops his head, groaning low in his ear at the thought. He won’t be able to come back from this. He had a feeling when he first let this happen that he wouldn’t, but now Harry’s sure. Being with Louis is his peak. There won’t be anyone better, surely. It’s bittersweet, and Harry bites at Louis’ collarbone, suddenly desperate to leave marks, to leave evidence of their intimacy before they separate. 

He wants Louis to  _ remember _ . In an unfair way, the thought of him being with anyone else makes him go nearly insane, but if it happens, he wants Louis to think of this moment, right now. The first time anyone was inside of him, loving him like he deserved. 

He grabs one of Louis’ shaking thighs and pulls it up to his hip to get a better angle, moving his head to swallow the little sounds Louis’ making with his mouth in his own. 

Looking down at where they’re connected, Harry’s breath catches inside of his throat. Louis follows his gaze, hiccuping and sighing sweetly in his ear, his fingers tightening on Harry’s skin, fingernails leaving crescent shaped marks that he hopes will stick around for a few days. Harry pushes in harder, faster, until Louis’ moving up and down in time with his thrusts, shifting that much closer to the headboard and to coming. 

Harry’s gaze trails back up to his eyes, but there’s no haze on them like usual. Louis’ eyes are wide, tearful, but undeniably clear as they hold contact with Harry. He’s quiet, but it’s obvious that he’s close from the way he’s moving. Harry imagines a world where he gets to do this all the time, where tonight is a beginning and not an end. He wants it so bad. 

Mouth falling open and brows turning in, Harry grabs the sides of his face, kissing him hard and whispering into his open mouth. 

“I love you,” he says. 

It comes out of nowhere, and he knows it’s no good to say it now, knows it won’t matter in a few hours when they’re no longer  _ Harry&Louis _ , but for now it feels right. It feels so unbelievably right that he keeps saying it, hands slipping off the side of Louis’ slick cheeks the more he says it, voice shaking but getting louder. He’s frantic. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

He can’t tell if Louis can even hear him over his sobs, Harry’s own ears ringing from everything he’s feeling right now. He may be yelling. He keeps saying it anyway. 

“I love you, I love you.” 

He pushes up one last time into Louis, freezes, and then they’re coming. Louis’ cock jerks, spilling onto his and Harry’s stomachs as Harry finishes inside of him. 

Harry feels like he comes forever, twitching inside of Louis, swallowing each other’s breaths while he waits for everything to become less intense. 

He whispers it one last time as they come down, forehead pressed against his, sleepy and soft and still wonderfully connected. 

“I love you.” 

Louis doesn’t stop sobbing even after he’s pulled out, even after Harry’s finished wiping them down, even after he slides under the sheets beside him, wrapping his shivering body up in his arms. 

Harry’s concerned for a second, but then Louis’catching his eye and reaching a tentative hand up to the side of his face, running his fingers over Harry’s cheeks, his nose, his mouth. It’s like - it’s like he’s trying to  _ memorize _ him. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Louis’ wiping away his tears, pushing their mouths together roughly and making small noises against his lips. 

It’s dark outside, the blinds are closed and it’s surely far into the middle of the night by now, but when Harry opens his eyes to memorize Louis back, he’s shining brighter than the sun. 

——

The ride to the airport is heavy, thick with tension and apprehension of the future. Harry’s not even sure that Louis’ breathing. 

His hands are clammy, encased in Harry’s larger ones in the backseat of the van. He’d been like that since last night, reluctant to let go of Harry for more than a few seconds. Both of their eyes threatened to close, but neither of them wanted to look away from the other. 

They’d stayed up until the early hours this morning, talking and soaking in everything they could about each other. Although Louis hadn’t said the words back to him, Harry learned a long time ago that you could tell exactly how Louis was feeling by his actions - which told him all he needed to hear. Harry remembers feeling so  _ full _ just a few hours ago, loved and safe inside their little bubble. 

Now he just feels empty. The same way he’d felt in L.A., and the same way he’d felt after that phone call with Gemma. He knew there was a chance this would happen, that he wouldn’t be able to let go at the end of the month, but it’s proving to be even harder than he thought. 

He doesn’t feel totally crazy, though. Liam shed a few tears when he had to leave Zayn for the first time, which wasn’t anywhere near the same as Harry and Louis but somehow also strikingly similar. Harry isn’t crying, at least. Not yet, anyway. 

Even Niall seems affected by the idea of leaving all of this behind, his eyes rimmed red and his mood declining the closer they get to the airport. And then there’s Louis, his Louis, who is an absolute mess. Jumpy and anxious and sad, pushing Harry away one second and drawing him in close the next. 

He knows that Louis gets frustrated with himself when he can’t do something he said he would, like he thinks he’s a failure. Harry can tell just by the way he’s moving that he wants to be okay with leaving this behind like they’d decided, he just isn’t. He’s too stubborn to suggest otherwise, though, and Harry feels like it should be his idea to push any further. 

Louis needs to be pushed most of the time, but this feels like something much more monumental than the other things they’ve done. This won’t be just a split-second decision in the back of the van or in the bathroom of a hotel that Harry can sway him toward, this would be their lives, and that’s not something Harry can just decide for him. If Louis decides to pursue this, Harry knows he won’t ever be able to let him go. 

But if this thing they’ve got isn’t important enough to him to speak up, maybe it isn’t meant to be. It’s just something Harry’s going to have to learn to cope with, like he’s been trying to for years. It won’t be easy to go back, but if it’s what Louis wants then he’ll do his best. 

They’ve both got responsibilities to return to at home. Jobs. Families. Decisions. Harry daydreams about doing all of those things together, but he only allows himself to keep it going for a little while until he shuts it all down inside of his head before he gets his hopes up too high. 

He knows he’s being redundant, but there just doesn’t seem to be any other option for them. Either Louis will step up and ask for what he wants or he’ll go back home without another word and they’ll probably both suffer. Harry’s much too exhausted to think about hypotheticals at the moment, and his head throbs in protest. He closes his eyes and leans his chin down to rest on top of Louis’ head. 

When the car pulls to a stop, none of them move. 

The rental car dealer is the one to break the silence, tapping his knuckles on the window to ask them if they’re getting out. 

“C’mon,” Harry whispers, “Let’s go, love.” 

He readjusts his grip on his hand, pulling Louis out behind him. Harry wraps an arm around his shoulders as they walk up to the desk inside, uncaring of their friends seeing him, and glances down periodically to make sure Louis isn’t dead. 

As insane as it sounds now, when Harry pictured these goodbyes after their rendezvous in the back of the van, he thought Louis would be fine. Completely unbothered at the idea of leaving Harry behind. He’d been so, so wrong. If anything, Louis is taking this harder than even Harry was, which says a lot. 

He’d been strung up with passion the night before, lost in the way that Louis felt beside him, he hadn’t even realized when it faded away. It was gone now, for sure. Replaced with something much more depressing and unpleasant. Louis’ hand is damp and limp in his hold. 

“Did you guys have a good trip?” 

The man behind the counter is trying to be nice, Harry can tell, but it’s no use. No one answers him, not even Liam, and he hears Niall sniffle off to the side. The worker clears his throat and gets back to checking the car back in, handing Liam a receipt and thanking him on the way out. 

Loading the shuttle to the airport is harder than they’d thought, all of the seats already taken and their bags clashing awkwardly in the small aisles. Still, Louis never lets go of his hand. 

They drag their feet into the airport, checking in at the kiosk and going through security and customs. Louis holds on to him until the woman in the uniform tells him he’s going to have to let go to go through the monitor. 

Harry sort of wants to smile at him, giddy at the thought of Louis not wanting to be apart, but the laughter dies in his throat. He goes through it himself and walks to the other side, picks Louis’ hand back up the first moment he can. 

Somewhere, in a parallel universe, there’s a Harry&Louis that have everything figured out. Harry’s sure of it. They’re doing great, headed home to their shared flat, laughing and creating memories and making love in their bed every night. 

He squeezes Louis’ hand harder. 

Louis meets his eyes for the first time since early that morning when they’d left their room, blinking at him slowly. 

It makes Harry very sad, that look, because it’s what Louis looked like all those years ago when his friend embarrassed him at the bar. It’s the same look that he’d had for months everytime Harry saw him around school. It’s the look that he had each time Niall asked him out with them and he said no. It’s the look he’d given Harry after their fight at Zayn’s party. 

Harry’s not sure why it affects him so much because, on the outside, Louis looks normal. Like he’s an average person walking through the airport. But now Harry’s seen what he’s like when he’s happy. From what he can tell, Louis hasn’t been happy for a long time. Why is he giving this up so easily? 

It’s the fact that this is what he considers to be Louis’ normal that hits him hardest. Because this is definitely not what Louis’ normal was over the past few weeks. It makes him angry that he didn’t realize sooner how unhappy he was, but Harry knows it wouldn’t have changed anything. They needed to go on this trip to figure everything out, since they obviously couldn’t on their own. 

Harry pictures the nice, expensive thank you cards he’s going to write to Liam and Niall when he gets home. 

And that’s another thing.  _ Home _ . Harry’s not even that excited to go home. He’s always felt the best around his mother and sister, always been most excited to just get to see them instead of being around anyone else. He doesn’t feel like that now. 

Dropping his bag onto the ground at their gate, Niall mumbles something about getting a snack before walking off. Liam sits down when they reach their terminal, pulling out his headphones and sticking them inside of his ears without a word. He’s typing quickly, curled over his phone, and Harry thinks he’s probably texting Zayn. 

Harry sits down and makes room for Louis to sit next to him, but Louis ignores him and sits down in the small space left of Harry’s chair, swinging his legs over Harry’s and laying his head against his chest. 

He’s itching to pull out his phone and listen to the playlist he’d made, but he also wants to be in the moment with Louis. Early this morning he’d added  _ Yours _ by Ella Henderson and  _ Cherish You  _ by Mikky Ekko. Now, before he forgets, he adds  _ Somewhere Only We Know _ , then sends Louis the link to the updated version so he’ll have it to listen to later. He’ll also be able to see the name of the playlist. Harry wishes he could be there to his reaction. 

Everything is loud. There are people all around them, talking and moving and existing and it’s making Harry anxious. He wants to suggest to Louis they go somewhere quiet but he knows there’s a chance they won’t ever leave if he does. 

An even better idea would be to take Louis’ hand and go buy another flight, somewhere where they can spend another few weeks or months or years together before they have to part ways. It seems childish even inside of his brain, but Harry seriously considers asking him if he’d be up for it. 

He just doesn’t feel like it’s done yet. Like  _ he’s _ done. It’d taken him so long to get here and now that he’s been granted permission to explore Louis completely, it’s all being ripped away from him before he can properly cherish it. 

He wants to stand up and stomp his foot and complain. He settles for threading his fingers through Louis’ hair and trying to tune the rest of the world out. 

On the flight, Louis keeps to himself, mostly. Harry dozes the entire first half, while Louis makes himself small in the seat across from him, legs up and hunched over something in his lap that Harry can’t see. The other half, he sticks whatever it is in his bag and leans over, pressing a cheek to Harry’s shoulder and falling asleep to the lull of the plane. Harry pulls him closer and rests his head on top of Louis’, but he’s not able to relax even when he tries. 

He’s exhausted by the time he gets back to his own flat. It’d torn him apart to say goodbye to everyone even though they all promised to keep in touch, and even Niall was crying by the end of it. 

Saying goodbye to Louis was the hardest. Mainly because there wasn’t really a goodbye at all, and Harry’s unsure of how that makes him feel. 

He’d detached himself from under Harry’s arm in somewhat of a daze, squeezed his hand one last time without even looking up at him, and then he was gone. He’d walked out of the airport with hunched shoulders and that same solemn face Harry hated to see on him, but he hadn’t stopped him. 

He wonders if Louis’ happy to go home. Instead of stopping at his flat first like the others, he’d had to catch a connecting flight to Doncaster, making their parting that much more bitter. It’d felt wrong without him on the cab ride home. 

He takes the steps up to his floor slowly, dragging his feet lethargically over each one until he reaches the top. 

There was a part of him that was sort of hoping Louis would grab his hand before he got in the cab, give him a grand speech about love and friendship and they’d go home together and figure everything else out later on. 

Louis is very calculated most of the time though, likes to think through his decisions and not risk messing anything up. Harry loves him for that and a thousand other things, but that doesn’t change Harry’s hope he’d prove him wrong there. 

It hurts all the same. Harry still hopes something will change. 

——

It’s three days later when he gets it. 

He’s coming home from having lunch with Gemma and his mum, who are in town to help him pack his things before he moves back, and all of his clothes are wet from the rain. 

When he’d first arrived back at his flat, it’d been very anticlimactic. Always an optimist, Harry’d been hoping that when he actually got there a few days ago he’d feel much better about being back. He doesn’t. 

In fact, he feels so bad about it that he hasn’t touched any of his luggage, is still wearing the same pyjamas he’d changed into that night, and has large, dark rings underneath his eyes from lack of sleep. He’d brushed his teeth and fixed his hair for lunch, but that was the extent of his efforts. 

There hasn’t been any word from Louis. It probably shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does, but he gets a bit more dejected every day he doesn’t hear anything. Even Liam and Niall keep checking in to see if he’s texted. He wonders when he should just stop answering them. 

Pulling a hand through his wet, tangled hair, Harry listens to the squelch of his boots on the tile as he walks. Living alone seemed like a good idea before, like he was independant and didn’t have to deal with any roommates, but now it just feels exceptionally  _ lonely _ . 

Eyes focused on the ground, Harry feels around for his keys and almost misses the big box leaning against the doorframe. He stops. 

All of his packages are supposed to go through the office first, so that means that this one had specific instructions to be left at his door. He runs through his brain about anything he might’ve ordered over the trip, but there’s nothing he can recall. Setting his bag of leftovers down next to him tiredly, he slides down to the floor to open it with the sharp edge of his key. 

Inside, there’s a sea of packing peanuts and something heavy at the bottom. Harry digs through them to pull it out. He’s confused still, but then -  _ Louis _ . 

In his hands is a first edition copy of  _ The Little Prince _ . Harry runs his hand down the cover, and already he can feel himself gearing up to cry again. He’s been doing that quite a bit over the past few days. 

When he flips open the first page, it gets even better. It was blank before, but Louis’ small handwriting is scratched into the emptiness from top to bottom. He has to blink several times to be able to see the words clearly. 

_ Harry _ , the first line reads,  _ hello _ . 

He lets out a watery laugh and slouches against the wall. 

_ By the time this reaches you, the trip will be over. I paid for express shipping, so I think it should be there, anyway. We’ll both be back home and you’ll probably be packing to go to your mum’s. I know I mentioned several times over the past month that I’m awful with words, if it wasn’t already obvious, so if there are mistakes or scribbles on this page just bare with me. I’m trying to be authentic, I guess. You inspire me to try.  _

He smiles. 

_ I know how much this book means to you and I thought you should have another copy. Selfishly, I also wanted to leave my mark in it. Maybe that way you won’t forget me as easily.  _

Harry shakes his head subconsciously, wishing he could tell him that he won’t ever forget him. 

_ Anyway, the point of all of this writing is to prove that I can say what I want without chickening out. No psychological evaluation and no fakeness. So, here it is. Brace yourself.  _

He takes a deep breath. 

_ At the start of this month, I really didn’t like you. I thought you were rude, and arrogant, and narcissistic (did I spell that right?). I didn’t want to be around you at all, especially not for a whole month. I have a point, I promise.  _

_ I was so miserable in my own life that I took all of that out on you. And no matter how many books I read or research I do, I can’t figure out why. Maybe because you seemed so perfect? Like you had it all together? Or I was just bitter about the past still. Either way, you didn’t deserve any of it.  _

_ I wish I could tell you the exact moment that I realized I never hated you at all, but I think it came to me slowly, over time. Being forced to be close to you for so long made me have to listen to you, which made me realize that you’re not that bad at all. You’re probably the best person I’ve ever known, actually.  _

A tear runs off of his cheek and blurs the next few words, but Harry can still make them out. 

_ And I felt so guilty for a while, that you were so nice to me and I’d been so horrible to you. But you never made me feel bad about it. You were just accepting and understanding and everything I thought I didn’t deserve from you. Everytime I thought things were about to go bad, they only got even better. Part of me still can’t really comprehend it.  _

_ Yeah,  _ Harry thinks,  _ me neither _ . 

_ So, I don’t have any beautifully articulated poetry like you deserve, but I have my words. I hope they’re enough -  _

_ I love you.  _

_ And I should have said it back when you told me, just last night (I’m writing this on the plane while you’re asleep) but I got scared. I knew that you’d be leaving in the morning and I didn’t want to give away that part of myself if there was no chance I’d be able to say it again. I don’t even really say that to my own family, so I panicked a bit.  _

_ If I’m being honest, which is what I’m trying to be, I wish you were here. I mean, right now you are, but when you read this I’ll be back in Donny. Alone. The last month has been the most fun I’ve had in a really long time. It takes a lot to get me to smile and I couldn’t ever stop when I was around you. It feels like everything was crammed into such a short time, but looking back it felt like years. I wanted it to be years.  _

“Fuck,” Harry sniffles and wipes at his eyes again. 

_ I told my mom about you. I think she approves. :) I wish you could’ve met her. She would have loved you. Sometimes when you talk you say things that she used to say, like she’s using you to remind me she’s there. I don’t think that would happen without a reason.  _

He bites his lip to hold in the sob. 

_ So that’s everything, I guess. That’s how I feel. And I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it and to tell you. You’ve already forgiven me for so much, I don’t want to have to ask you to again.  _

_ I treated you so badly in the past that I wouldn’t be surprised if you just threw this away and went on with your life. But you’re too polite to do that, aren’t you? Part of me wishes you’d show up here and we could make things work, but I know that we’re probably better off like this.  _

Harry scoffs. 

_ I’m rambling now, so I think I’ll just cut myself off here. If you’ve read this far, thanks. I won’t have written this for nothing. I really do love you, and I hope that we can at least see each other when we get together with Liam and Niall regardless of where we stand.  _

_ I’ve bookmarked the page that you mentioned to me last week - your favorite. I think it’s mine, too, now.  _

_ Love, hopefully, your sunset  _

_ Louis x  _

Frantically, Harry thumbs through the pages until he hits Louis’ bookmark, and he knows what the words on the page say before he even reads them. 

It’s an illustration of a boy sitting in a chair, staring out at the sky. 

It reads, “You know, when a person is very, very sad, they like sunsets. And were you very, very sad on the day you watched forty-four sunsets?” 

It makes Harry cry a bit harder, because that’s what’s supposed to fix the sadness. And this whole time, probably subconsciously, he’s been referring to Louis as the sun. 

He’s barely got his takeout inside before he’s locking the door back and heading to the airport. 

It’s not a far drive from his flat, but he speeds down the street anyway. He’s still got one of his suitcases in the backseat, and he puts the book down on top of it. He figures that should be enough clothes for a few days. 

Luckily, he goes without getting pulled over and runs toward the entrance after he parks, disregarding the stares he gets as he goes. 

“Hi, hello,” he rushes to the man at the counter, “I need a ticket to Doncaster, please. The earliest available.” 

The man seems startled by Harry’s anxious manner when he approaches, but he can’t be bothered to tone down the dramatics  _ now _ . 

As he rattles off the information on the earliest one, Harry pushes his card across to him and doesn’t even pay attention to the cost as he scans in into the system. 

When he’s through security, he sits down at his gate and pulls out his phone. 

_ what’s lou’s new address? _ He sends Niall. 

His reply comes instantly. 

_ Fuck yeah, go get him!!  _

Underneath his excitement is the link to a flat in Doncaster, and Harry inputs the information into his GPS so it’ll already be up when he gets there. 

Without missing a beat, Liam’s name flashes next. 

_ So happy for you, man! Let us know how it goes.  _

Next, there’s another one from Niall in their group chat. 

_ You owe me twenty quid, liam _ . 

He laughs. Part of him still wants to cry but he’s so, so happy. He’d decided he was going to let Louis handle whether or not they stayed together, but what he’d written erased many of Harry’s previous doubts. Before he’d been too caught up in the logistics and the technicalities of everything, but if they both loved each other, what was the point in being apart? 

Harry texts his mum and sister to let them know he’s going to put off moving for a few days and then he’s boarding. It’s the same dilemma as the last flight, everyone’s got their bags in the aisles and Harry’s legs are a bit too long to be able to sit comfortably, but he can already tell it’s worth it. 

It’s a quick flight, roughly thirty minutes or less, and he can’t sit still. He could’ve driven, probably, but that would’ve taken hours and he wants to see Louis as soon as possible. The woman next to him glances at his bouncing knee and Harry tries to stop, he really does, but it starts up again a minute later on it’s own accord. 

The time passes in a blur, which could partly still be the jet lag, but Harry pushes on, grabs his bag from the overhead and wheels out of the airport as fast as he can. 

Waiting for a cab seems a bit redundant at this point, but renting a car isn’t a readily available option, so he waves his arm in the air even faster. 

Harry shows the driver the address rather than telling him when he gets in, too afraid his voice will give out if he speaks. He wants to save all of his words for Louis. 

The bumpy ride does little to calm his nerves, and he throws some cash at the front and rushes out gratefully when it comes to a stop outside of Louis’ building. No one stops him when he walks through the lobby, and when he steps on to the lift he gets a moment to think. 

He’s completely unprepared - doesn’t have flowers or a gift or anything like Louis’ ever done for him, but hopefully it will be enough. Hopefully  _ he’ll _ be enough, like Louis’d said in his note. 

The flat number is the one right across from the lift when he steps out, and all it takes is two large steps to be standing in front of it. With a trembling hand, he knocks. 

Silence. 

Harry tilts his head to check he has the right number and tries again, knocking louder this time. 

Still nothing. Louis isn’t home. 

In hindsight, Harry probably should’ve thought of this beforehand. Should’ve asked Niall for his grandparent’s address, too, since of course he would be over there taking care of them. But now he’s too tired and worn down to think to even do that so he lays his sweaty forehead against the cool wood of Louis’ door and bites his lip. He has to know Harry’s coming. He has to know that he feels the same way, that he - 

“Harry?” 

Harry spins around so fast that, for a moment, he isn’t even sure it’s Louis standing in front of him. 

“Louis,” he breathes. 

He’s in his arms again a moment later, swaying them back and forth while he murmurs into his hair. 

“Missed you so much.” 

“You just saw me,” Louis laughs but his face is wet from his tears and his bottom lip is trembling when Harry touches it with his thumb, leaning back to look at him. 

He kisses him slowly, sighing into it, and Louis falls right back into him all over again. 

“I love you,” Louis pulls back, “I’m sorry for not saying it before.” 

“I love you, too. So much. You have no idea.” 

They’re still in the middle of the hallway when Harry leans down to kiss him again, so he grabs the key Louis’ holding in his hand and walks them backwards to the door. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Louis says. 

Harry grins. 

“Me, too.” 

Later, after they’ve reacquainted themselves and curled up in a pile of Louis’ softest blankets on the floor, Harry glances around at the boxes. In a weird way, he can picture himself in the space, sees some of his own furniture fitting in perfectly here. 

“Have you been at your grandparents?” 

“Yeah,” Louis nods, “I’ve been trying to see them everyday.” 

There isn’t any furniture yet, but there’s a small television in the corner playing  _ Great British Bake-Off. _ Harry recognizes the episode from their impromptu picnic date. He smiles. 

“Have you talked to your family yet?” Louis glances up at him. 

“I saw them earlier today, but I told them that I’d be away for the next few days.”

He tries not to look down at Louis when he says this, afraid that he’s suggested too much, but he can feel his eyes on him. 

“Does that mean,” Louis falters, swallowing, “does that mean that you’d come over tomorrow with me?” 

At that, Harry does look at him, mouth falling open slightly as his mouth widens. 

“Of course I will.” 

Louis smiles up at him and hugs him again. 

This feels a lot like the start of something really, really good and Harry can’t believe he’s sitting here right now. His younger self would have fainted if he’d known what was coming. He hides his grin in Louis’ hair. 

“Did you like your gift?” Louis blushes. 

Harry presses a kiss to his lips, “I loved it.” 

His answer seems to satisfy Louis, and he bites his lip to hide a smile when Harry keeps pressing his lips into his skin. 

“Thank you for coming,” he says. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Lou.” 

When he gets up to get them some food, there’s a paper sitting on top of the counter in the kitchen that looks suspiciously left out, and Harry does his best to keep his eyes on the plate of food he’s making except - it says  _ Congratulations!  _ at the top and if Harry squints, that looks like a uni logo. He grins. 

“Louis?” He calls. 

“Yeah?” Louis walks into the kitchen, stopping, then smiling back when he sees what Harry’s looking at. “Oh, yeah,” he laughs. 

“Is this what I think it is?” 

“I got accepted into the Doncaster program for teaching. I start next semester.” 

Throwing the plate of food down, Harry tackles him in a hug and pulls him back to the den, laughing. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he says over and over, Louis’ answering smile bright and unwavering. 

It isn’t until much later, after a late dinner when the sun’s beginning to rise that they finally get to sleep, and Harry knows they’re both exhausted but this is better, anyway. Louis doesn’t have a bed yet, it’s still being shipped, but Harry can’t even feel the floor through the mountain of blankets they’re on. 

His friendship bracelet clinks against Louis’ when they settle in, Harry’s arm wrapped tightly around his waist while they face the window. 

“I love you,” he whispers in Louis’ ear. 

Louis whispers it back to him quietly and with more emotion than Harry’s ever heard him express, letting his head fall back into Harry’s chest and kissing his palm sweetly. 

They still have a lot to work out - all of those life things that Harry thought about before, but all of it seems so much less daunting now. Louis  _ loves _ him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing that. 

It’s a bit different than what he’s used to, the sunrise, but it feels monumental, somehow. Like he’s starting something new now, with Louis. It doesn’t have the same blend of colors that the sunset has, it’s missing the warm oranges and purples and the soft scattering of clouds, but it’s exactly the same kind of spectacular. He doesn’t think he’d mind waking up to this everyday. Harry shuts his eyes against the bright light and smiles, holding tight onto his sunset. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)


	9. Louis' Playlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the playlist that's mentioned in the summary :) 
> 
> if you're interested in listening to it, it's up on spotify under soldouthaz - nothing worsens, nothing grows, or click [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7s86ExRh9XupyPgauyRa8u?si=IsekOCrMSTCgT_Ir8NmIhw)

  1. Hate me right - Mafalda 
  2. Gravel to tempo - Hayley Kiyoko
  3. Queen - Shawn Mendes
  4. Hope is a heartache - LEON
  5. The only - Sasha Sloan
  6. Enough for you - maisie peters
  7. Treat me like a lover - Will Joseph Cook
  8. Fighter - Joseph 
  9. Fix you - Coldplay
  10. I wanna be yours - Arctic Monkeys 
  11. Maybe, I’m afraid - lovelytheband
  12. Those nights - bastille 
  13. Call me lover - Sam Fender
  14. Stolen Moments - The Vamps 
  15. Look after you - The Fray
  16. Catching feelings - Drax Project 
  17. Lost Time - LEON 
  18. Ease my mind - Ben Platt 
  19. Mine right now - Sigrid 
  20. I can’t believe - CYN
  21. Strangers - Jonas Brothers
  22. House of memories - Panic! At the disco
  23. I want it all - COIN 
  24. Official - Charli XCX
  25. I like me better - lauv 
  26. When you’re ready - Shawn Mendes
  27. Deep - Julia Michaels 
  28. Love me like a friend - Fly by midnight 
  29. What a heavenly way to die - Troye Sivan 
  30. 3:15 - Bazzi
  31. One more touch - joan 
  32. Somewhere only we know - Keane 
  33. Mixtape - Jens
  34. Us - James Bay
  35. A closeness - Dermot Kennedy 
  36. Beautiful - Virginia to Vegas 
  37. Share your address - Ben Platt
  38. Mean It - Lauv and LANY
  39. Overjoyed - Matchbox Twenty 
  40. Call if you need me - Vance Joy
  41. Another way around - Luca Fogale
  42. Cherish you - Mikky Ekko
  43. Feels like this - maisie peters
  44. Sink in - Amy Shark 
  45. How would you feel (paean) - Ed Sheeran
  46. It may sound strange - Spencer Sutherland 
  47. I’ll get you home - by the coast
  48. Perfectly wrong - Shawn Mendes
  49. Yours - Ella Henderson
  50. Someone to stay - Vancouver Sleep Clinic 

  
  


This playlist is updated frequently on my spotify with other songs i find that fit into the storyline. you can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7s86ExRh9XupyPgauyRa8u?si=IsekOCrMSTCgT_Ir8NmIhw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)

**Author's Note:**

> if you like this fic, you can reblog it [here](https://soldouthaz.tumblr.com/post/189980061416) :)
> 
> italian translation on wattpad by tenerifelouis :)  
and another Spanish translation here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/9118825 !


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